Kiss Kiss
by RavenclaWriteRules
Summary: Draco frowned. Then his grin turned more confident and seductive. "I'll let you tie me up with whatever stupid string you have if you come over here, Potter." Includes romantic stories that take place in closets, the Prefects' Bathroom, and while awkwardly enduring ferret transformation or tied together by a string. Also it's called Kiss Kiss - what do you think would happen?
1. Trapped in a Closet

"...Did she say she had three _hundred_ separate curses put on the door?"

"..."

"I'll take that as a no."

"..."

"Malfoy?"

"..."

"Malfoy."

"..."

"MALFOY YOU PRAT."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, POTTER!"

"YOU."

"..."

"...to answer my question."

"FINE. YES. HAPPY NOW?"

"WELL NEXT TIME, JUST ANSWER ME FASTER!"

"..."

The two boys glared at each other then sighed, edging apart from each other. Sighing, Harry pushed his spectacles back into place, muttering darkly. Draco chose to harrumph and cross his arms, looking away, sitting in the corner.

"Hermione!" Harry pounded on the door. "For the love of Merlin, please open this door already!" Silence. Frowning, Harry took three steps back, muttering. "I did not spend five years of learning to get stuck in a miscellaneous broom closet with my nemesis... _Bombarda!_ " His wand spat a few golden sparks before sputtering out fantastically.

"Where'd you learn that spell, Potter?" Draco spat. "An asylum?"

"Yes, Lockhart personally taught me that one," Harry grunted, trying to push at the door. No such luck. Sighing, he turned around. "Well, Malfoy, we're stuck." Scoffing, Draco stuck out his tongue and continued to sulk. "Would you mind getting off your arse and helping me by any chance? Just saying."

"I would mind," Draco replied haughtily. "Unlike you, I'm not about to humiliate myself like a stupid Squib."

"You're just saying that because you've never survived a death curse," Harry gritted his teeth, now attempting to wedge the door open using his wand as a lever.

"Oh, I certainly have, and it's called 'Care of Magical Creatures' and taught by a clumsy, idiotic oaf. Sound familiar?" Draco sneered.

Harry grunted. "Nope. Now if you'll excuse me, I care about getting out of here, and if you're just going to talk, then I'm leaving this conversation before you provoke me into hexing your nose off."

"Ooh, Potty-poo's going for my nose, boohoo," Draco taunted, "I'd be more afraid if you were aiming for the Astronomy Tower. Your aim is shit."

"Yes, seen the fact you've nabbed so many Snitches from me," Harry replied coolly.

" _Why, you-_ "

"Oh, did I hit a tender point? I'm sorry, maybe I should have insulted your messed up Death Eater family instead," Harry rolled his eyes. "Enjoying your legal slaves still? I heard Hermione planning a raid to free all your house-elves. Better watch out where you throw your clothes, Draco."

"I'll _kill_ you-" Draco snarled, standing up.

"Come and try it," Harry replied, not turning around.

" _Die!_ " Draco growled, pulling out his wand. " _CREPITUS!_ " Without flinching, Harry simply stepped aside.

A bright red beam of light shot from his wand and hit the door. It shuddered for a moment, then stopped moving and suddenly a slew of iron bars appeared in front of it.

"I was hoping your attempt to kill me would damage the doors, but damn, were you planning to put me in jail or something?" Harry asked dully.

"Shut up! You're supposed to be suffering the worst kind of pain and misery!" Draco hissed.

"Like what, getting a Dark Mark?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I do NOT have a Dark Mark!" Draco seethed, "but if we are going to stay here for long, maybe _you_ will end up with a nice, lovely, permanent bruise-"

"Oh, so you dooo know what a Dark Mark is. Totally not suspicious," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Grrr!" Draco growled, then sighed and sat down. "I hate you, Potter."

"Oh, I love you too, Draco," Harry strode over to inspect the door, "my, how strong and impenetrable these iron bars look...why, I think they look good enough to hold out felons for twenty years..."

"Oh, you mean like your scummy godfather?" Draco hissed, crossing his arms.

"Or potentially your father," Harry smirked.

"YOU BASTARD!"

"I've been wanting to say that for a loong time," Harry sighed. "So, how's things going for you with Crabbe and Goyle, eh? Heard you lot have been having fun, trouble-making as usual..." Draco sulked. "Oh, don't be like that, _Draco_. I'm just asking out of politeness, not because I'm trying to rile you up."

"Really?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Pfft, no."

"Mature," Draco frowned, crossing his arms and sighing. "Believe it or not, I don't have as much fun as Mr. Golden-Boy Gryffindor."

"Seriously? You call me that?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Whatever. It's not like my life is all pink and fluffy, either."

"You wouldn't understand," Draco mumbled.

"Oh, no, I do. Really, I only know better, though. Because shutting yourself up into a hole of depression really won't do anything." Harry brushed back his hair, sighing. "I really need a haircut soon. Point is, Malfoy, just because you think you have to do everything by yourself because your mummy and daddy have told you to follow your family doesn't mean you really do."

"I don't follow anyone's instructions," Draco snarled.

"Whoa boy. But seriously, Draco, you don't have to be a Death Eater because your family has dug a deep hole into the dark side and refuses to come out. You're sixteen, you know, you have time to change."

"Bullshit," Draco retorted. "Anyway I am _not_ -"

"Believe what you want," Harry sighed. "I'm not going to force you. All I'm saying, if you ever get tired of the Dark side, then just leave it, Malfoy. There was a time when if you dared sit in the same room as me I'd start itching to fight you and peel off your face. But I don't want to anymore. I've stopped caring about petty things like that. Honestly, Draco, if you hadn't been a prat to Ron, I don't think we would have had such a bad relationship in the first place." Harry sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair again. "Such a bother...I really should just ask Hermione to shave me bald."

Draco harrumphed, but stayed silent for a few moments as Harry began to cast rusting spells on the iron bars, to little avail.

"Damn!" Harry swore. "These seem like they want to stay."

"Potter?" Draco turned.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"You know...about the whole, be-a-traitor option."

"Oh, that. Yeah, I guess I'm pretty serious about that. Why?"

"Nothing. Just, you know, if I ever get bored maybe I'll just decide to watch you and Weasley be incompetent at everything you do."

"Thanks, Draco, that's real decent of you."

"...Are you touched in the head, Potter?"

"What? No! What makes you say that?"

Suddenly, the two boys heard a creaking sound. Turning towards the door, they watch in awe as the iron bars suddenly rusted and vanished into grey dust and the heavy doors swung open with a labored creaking sound. Standing in the hallway with her arms crossed was none other than Hermione, tapping her foot.

"So, have you two learned your lesson now?" Hermione demanded.

"What? Pfft. Potter's such an arse he couldn't see two feet past his nose," Draco replied, slapping Harry with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, you're lucky Hermione's here, cause I'm giving you five seconds to run away like the cowardly ferret you are before I disarm you so hard," Harry replied briskly.

"Ha! Catch you on the flipside, Mudbloods," Draco replied, turning down the hallway. "Bet you wish you were as good at catching Snitches as me, Potter!"

Hermioned rolled her eyes. "Boys," she sighed. "I guess you two really are too immature to make amends. Sorry."

"It's fine, Hermione," Harry replied cheerfully, "it's not you, Malfoy's just genetically a prat. A really stubborn, idiotic prat with no hope."

Sprinting around the end of the hallway, Draco gasped for breath and stopped. Just then, he felt someone seize him by the shoulders and start shaking him back and forth excitedly.

"You didn't snog?" Pansy demanded.

"Shut up," Draco rolled his eyes, "he would never let me hear the end of it if I gave in first."

"Dammit, Hermione, you make a lousy matchmaker," Harry sighed, "if you had just given me more time I would have gotten him to-"

"More time? Hmph!" Hermione snorted. "One of you just needs to put his damn _pride_ away!"

"If that means letting him get more Snitches, that's a no," Harry mumbled.

* * *

 **Just some notes about Draco's characterization. I wanted this first chapter to be an easy read so people can know what to expect, but there's a little more I want to say about the way I write Draco and Harry's relationship in this.**

 **I think I wrote this because I like Harry Potter and queer pairings and I've always had a love/hate relationship with the Draco/Harry ship itself.**

 **On one hand, Draco is kind of terrible person (not that he doesn't change, of course). He's a bigot (undeniably), he will do anything to emotionally trigger Harry, he's spoiled, he's a bully, he is careless of other people, and he does it all because of jealousy. Frankly, J.K. Rowling herself finds it had to think of him and Harry being able to reconcile to the point that they're friendly friends. That isn't very hard to believe, if you consider all of Draco's emotional abuse and plots to trip up Harry and the dark deeds he's willing to turn to (he didn't manage to murder Dumbledore, but he did do a lot of blackmailing and manipulated Madam Rosmerta and joined the Inquisitorial Squad).**

 **He paralyzed Harry, broke his nose, and was thinking of us the Cruciatus Curse on him in defense. And not to forget when he makes fun of Hermione for being Muggleborn, acts insensitive about Neville's parents, dresses up as a Dementor, and makes Harry go hunting after Sirius. This guy is just a self-destructive tornado who continues to make things terrible for other people around him. I frankly never found _this_ side of him attractive. That's my personal opinion, so that's how I felt.**

 **But then again he's not just a one-note good-looking but shitty person. He does lie to protect Harry's life from Lucius, even if he tries to rejoin the Death Eaters immediately after Harry saves him. He tell Crabbe not to kill Harry and he does feel bad for Crabbe afterwards. A lot of his personality problems stems from feelings of inadequacy, and the household he grew up in did not help. His father gets jailed and he has to kill Dumbledore and he's not sure whether he can trust his former favorite teacher, Snape, anymore.**

 **This guy clearly does care about his father, but to the end, he CANNOT kill Dumbledore-he even resorts to Harry's ol' Disarming trick, out of pure desperation. More added pressure does not really help his insecurities and actually this is where he starts to realize stuff and split apart from the doctrines he used to embrace. He does make a change and try to be less...compensate-y? Asshole-y? IDK, but he does change. And there's something about his decision to do so that was surprising and brave. This guy has grown up being an asshole- why would he want to backtrack and admit he was one, especially since all the other assholes are so closely interconnected to him and can easily kill him, painfully?**

 **And it's not like it's not an entirely unshippable pair. Who can forget that precious moment where Draco missed a Snitch that was right next to his ear because he was insulting Harry? Or that moment where Harry saves him from Fiendfyre and they ride out together on a broomstick? Or...uh...**

 **Oh, forget it.**

 **I just...I want to have a fun frenemy pairing, and I love the Harry Potter universe as a setting in particular, but I want to make sure everyone knows what would be problematic about Drarry itself. Because I agree with what JK Rowling said about cautioning attraction towards Draco. But I want to be able to have nice things. And I think it's okay to have a few guilty pleasures here and there as long as you know what's problematic about them (if they are problematic, sometimes it's just a little embarrassing but nothing to be ashamed about).**

 **Do you understand?**

 **Gahhh I give up.**

 **Enjoy the rest of the story.**

 **And leave a review if you feel the same way!**

 **-Raven.**


	2. Small Spaces

Draco hated to admit it, but he had been spending a lot of time inside of closets lately.

In his defense, he often needed some time to think. A lot of time. Of course, he hadn't shut himself inside of the Vanishing Cabinet yet (as it was far too dangerous) but he did often find himself on the floor of a particular broom closet that Filch had probably either forgotten about or decided to use as a spiderweb vivarium. Anyways, he couldn't stand the dust and spiders, so he'd cleaned it up with a few charms and spent a few hours skipping patrol to instead sit down and breathe uninterrupted, leaning against the closet walls.

Tonight, he could feel his body itching for a moment from everything else. Seeing Granger and Weasley as prefects often irked him, but he'd simply duck around a corner and return to his closet. Some times they came close to discovering him, knocking against the door and throwing it open, but he would simply hold his breath and hope his Disillusionment Charm was enough. Usually it worked well enough, since he was in the dark. Granger was more thorough than Weasley, however, and she caught him on her own one day, forcing him out.

"What are you doing, Draco?" she demanded, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out.

"Stop that! Let go of me!" Draco hissed, and she tapped him with her wand. He felt a sensation like a raw egg melting on his head and knew instantly that she had undone it in one try. Her grip was like iron, and when he tried to push her away she held steady. "You're just as horrible as your little friends! Am I not a prefect, too?"

Granger had a soft ego. She let go of him rather quickly, but the woman growing in her still eyed him with suspicion. "Alright, it doesn't seem like you were doing anything wrong, and I'm sorry if I've misjudged you, but you have some duties to attend to as a Prefect, Draco." The way she pronounced it, he instantly knew she preferred the "P" capitalized.

Draco rolled his eyes. She was mad at him for shirking. "Where's Weasley?" he asked.

"I'll go find him in a second," Granger replied with the certainty of someone who knew a magical labyrinth like the back of their hand.

Draco raised an eyebrow, somewhat skeptic. "Why, did he leave you just now?"

"Oh, he's been on his own for a good half hour. He could be anywhere, really," Granger shrugged. "He probably wants to do some patrolling on his own, by which I mean abusing his power. I thought I sensed some odd magic down here, though, so I went after it. Tell me, Draco, why would you be hiding in a closet using a Disillusionment Charm?" She looked at him directly in the eye, putting her hands on her hips.

"Just thinking," Draco replied. _I find it more odd that you just "sensed" something and tracked me for an entire half hour, though. And succeeded.  
_

"Thinking?" Granger frowned.

He thought he heard a faint snicker to his left. Granger turned sharply and opened her mouth as if she wanted to yell at some invisible person, but stopped when she realized Draco was still there.

"I'll let you off for a little," she muttered, sounding faintly pained.

"Are you alright, Granger? You sound stiff," Draco frowned.

"Just fine!" she replied. Her cheeks were faintly flushed. "I'll let you off, but if it turns out you're fabricating cocaine or something, I won't hesitate to report it. And stop shirking your patrol duties! If I come back and catch you again, I'll tell Professor Dumbledore that you're not aspiring to be a role model and figure of responsibility. Now I've got to find that stupid boy-er, Ronald, that is. See you around!"

Draco raised an eyebrow and out of curiosity, followed behind her for a few steps. He heard a faint yelp of surprise and Granger's high-pitched, shrill yell of "Ronald! I've told you a million times that you can _not_ just shirk your patrol shift to steal food from the house elves! Really, it's quite unbecoming of you! To think you're trying to _profit_ from _slave_ _labor_ and-"

A loud smack and the faint thump of something hitting the floor echoed through the hallway and Draco winced. Somehow she'd tracked Weasley down from halfway across the castle. He could have sworn he heard another faint yelp and Granger growl "Did you think that was funny, hm? And what are _you_ up to now?" But he was too tired to think. He simply rolled his eyes at the clock trying to tell him to stay on patrol for another half hour and returned to the Slytherin dormitory, collapsing onto his bed.

The next few nights, he avoided going into his closet. He wondered to himself why Filch didn't use it anymore. But that didn't really matter. After a few restless nights and several grunts of "I'm fine, I just need some time alone" to Pansy, he decided he'd had enough and simply returned to his closet once more. He knew that most likely Weasley would try to find him and snitch on him, because Granger most likely would have told him the location of his closet. However, Granger would most likely never speak with Pansy long enough for the two of them to work together. He simply had to pray Weasley would keep Granger unoccupied and undo his Disillusionment Charm every once in a while. He also needed to switch closets every now and then.

This was an absolute headache. Draco passed over three closets, mostly because they were too full of actual broom closet stuff or dirty for just a few cleaning charms to remedy, requiring a serious deep-clean. At least whenever he accidentally stumbled upon rebellious students planning activities during the witching hour, he could just claim he was actually doing his job.

"'Ello boss." A gaggle of Slytherin first-years stared up at him, hastily trying to hide the highly-incriminating glowing cauldron of incandescent liquid and smoking wands. Draco rubbed his eyes. "You up to patrol duties, sir?"

Draco sighed. He remembered he'd technically taken them under his wing by telling them "As long as I'm prefect, you can break as many rules as you want." Tiredly, he stared at them and asked, "What are you doing?"

"'Just makin' somethin' for me mum's sore throat, sir," the same first year replied. Draco narrowed his eyes, not believing a single bit of it.

"I see. Promise me you'll be back in bed before twelve, boys."

"Yes, sir," they replied together. Sighing, Draco closed the door and on second thought, slid the door open.

"You better not have stolen any potion ingredients from Professor Slughorn, you hear? Granger usually comes by here around eleven thirty, understood? And she checks inside."

 _I'm not going to explain the fact that this is partly my fault and that I like this closet very much so please don't ever come here again._

"Yes, sir," they piped up together. Draco shut the door once more, considering asking for some hours off. He winced as he imagined Granger shrilly piping up _But sir, he's only asking because he doesn't want to work at all! Think of what a negative leadership influence this will mean to all the other Prefects!_

Now that his favorite closet was occupied, he was fine with taking the next one, dusty brooms or not. After another half hour of walking, he finally found one. Rolling his eyes, Draco easily opened the lock with an _Alohomora_ and threw the doors open.

The first thing he noticed was the incredible dust cloud that came out. What he did not expect was for _someone_ to fall out and knock him over.

 _"Son of a-"_

"Bastard!"

Draco cringed and opened his eyes, the back of his head pounding already from hitting the floor hard. The only thing he could see was blue and white stripes. "I can see your pajamas," he growled crossly.

Whoever it was quickly jumped off of him and collected themselves. He saw a disembodied hand grab at the edge of something and tug it over their face, moving quickly, however, he still caught the glint of a pair of round glasses. Even more furious than ever, Draco growled and grabbed in front of him, feeling fabric even though he couldn't see anything. A hand appeared and tugged at the fabric, trying to yank it away from him.

"Not tonight, prat, not tonight!" Draco yelled and lunged onto where he hoped the owner of the hand was. He heard a faint grunt of pain and, wasting no time, pulled what he believed to be an invisibility cloak away. He felt something struggled beneath him and slowly revealed itself to be Potter.

"I should have known," Draco resisted an urge to roll his eyes again.

"Oh hello Malfoy, mind giving me that back?"

Potter was, as usual, grinning insolently. He was wearing some very ratty blue-striped pajamas for some reason, complete with matching socks. Draco eyed him jealously. It would be nice to have something comfortable to sleep in. He certainly missed the silk night robe his mother had given him for his eleventh birthday. Potter grabbed at the cloak, but with little success. Draco had played this game with snot-nosed Hufflepuff first-years several times over. He even had earned himself the nickname "that big kid you never get your Whiz-Bangs back from."

"I don't see why I should," Draco drawled. "In fact, this appears to be quite useful to me. I think I'd like to keep it."

"Malfoy, no!" Potter made a lunge. Draco smirked and danced out of his way. Potter landed face first on the ground hard. Draco resisted the urge to snicker. "I'm serious!" He took out his wand. "I'll curse you until it's Wednesday!"

"Today is Tuesday," Draco noted duly. A clock struck midnight and chimed loudly. "Never mind, it _is_ Wednesday. I guess I really should have heeded your warning."

"Shut up! _Expelliarmus!"_ Potter hissed. Draco ducked. "Oh, bloody hell! _Levicorpus!_ Uh, _Petrificus_ _Totalus!"_

 _"_ Give up, Potter," Draco replied, casting a quick Shield Charm and quickly countering his other spells. "It's mine now. You can say goodbye to your precious invisibility cloak. So this is how you've been sneaking around, hm? I always wondered, how is it that one can get up to such hijinks and be in two places at once? I suppose this really answers my question. Perhaps I should confiscate this and call your own friends on you- that's right, you're not even a Prefect, aren't you? You're not _supposed_ to be up at this hour. Oh, I should love to watch the look on Granger and Weasley's faces as they try to defend you."

Potter's face flushed. "I-"

"Oh, do you have something to say?" Draco smirked. A shadow passed over Potter's face. Then, suddenly, his expression changed and he hung his head, looking down at his feet. Draco knew he had won. "No? Well, then, I guess you'd best be off to bed now."

Potter frowned, looked up and cocked his head. "Really?"

"Yes," Draco replied. "And don't expect me to escort you."

Potter raised an eyebrow, as if he suddenly had an idea. Draco frowned. "You won't?"

 _Did...did he just_ pout?

"Nope," Draco replied firmly.

"I see..."

Draco looked away uncomfortably. Something about the way Potter's eyes had changed did not seem according to plan.

"Wait." Draco turned around and scowled. "What are you doing? Button your shirt back up!" He screeched.

"Oh, nothing," Potter replied nonchalantly. "It's just, don't you feel it's a bit warm in here?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, very confused. "No." Potter just smiled.

"Say, is it true that your hair is natural? I mean, to me it certainly looks like a few days of bleaching, but you know, I mean your dad has the same hair-unless you like, have father-son sessions where you electrocute each other until you have that perfect shade of-"

"Potter, I think it's time we called up your friends to escort you. You've clearly been sneaking something out of the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh no, I am more sober than your father after narrowly escaping prison," Potter replied.

"You leave my father out of this," Draco grunted.

"Uh-huh," Potter replied.

"Just go. Leave, I have had enough of you," Draco snarled, trying not to stare at the expanse of Potter's dark, smooth-skinned neck that was now peeking out of an opened pajama collar. "Go," he pushed the somewhat-shabbily-dressed boy away, then immediately brought his hands back to hsi sides, rubbing them on his robes.

Instead, Potter decided he had other plans on his mind. Draco swallowed as the shorter, darker-skinned boy looked over his shoulder at him. As he did so, his glasses silently fell off one side of his face and hung off his nose, kind of lop sided. Draco winced. Those shockingly green emerald eyes still managed to get a raise out of him every time.

"What are you waiting for?" Draco growled. "Leave!"

"You haven't given me my cloak back yet," Harry whined.

"Well, I confiscated and now it's mine and you can't have it," Draco snapped. "Now go, or I'll-"

"You'll do what, _Draco?_ " Potter asked sultrily.

 _Oh no he didn't_.

Draco's breath hitched in his throat and he watched, wide-eyed and speechless, as Potter turned around and began making his way over to him. Suddenly, all too soon, their faces were inches apart from one another and Poter was leaning forward until their chests almost touched. Draco, in return, leaned back and found himself taking shallow, unsteady breaths as something thrummed and ached in the left side of his chest.

"I said, what will you do if I don't leave?" Potter asked again, his voice low and silky.

Draco took a step back, feeling heat and blood rush to his face. He wasn't ready for this. He had no idea Potter could speak in a voice like that.

"Is there anything I could do for you to get it back?" Potter added, and all of a sudden Draco was all-too conscious of the thick dark lashes framing those bright green eyes and dark, callused hands.

"I don't think so," Draco replied, trying to regain that tough Slytherin edge. Furrowing his brows, he stood up straighter and snarled "Get out, Potter. Don't try to bribe me with whatever weird favors you insist on offering - I have no interest in being involved with any lf your misadventures," he added harshly.

Potter shrugged and cracked his neck, running a free hand through those dark, untamed curls. Draco watched, his tongue suddenly dry and parched, and his fingers ached as if they also longed to touch those gorgeous, dark locks. But then Harry smirked and looked at him meaningfully and replied "Oh, don't play that game with me, Draco. You're the one who wanted to become friends with me in first year. I know why you pick on me and can't leave me alone. It's not just because I'm the Chosen One," he grinned.

Draco let out a gasp despite himself.

Potter only grew more confident, reaching out and placing a brown hand on Draco's chest. His heart nearly broke down and burst into flames right on the spot, as those fingers gently traced the fabric and then reached up to touch his jawline. "I know all about how you look at me, how you wish Crabbe and Goyle were more like the Golden Trio you so despise," he leaned in and whispered, their mouths only a millimeter apart. Closing his eyes slowly, Potter began to lean in and Draco felt the smallest, lightest brush of lips against one another.

A million alarms went off.

"No," Draco snarled, stepping back, grabbing Potter's hand and forcefully pulling it away from his face. "You're wrong," he sneered, "I hate you. I would never have...those kinds of thoughts. You're growing full of yourself, Potter."

"Oh, is Drakey-poo afraid that Hogwarts will find out he also has a crush on the great-haired Potter?"

" _Shut up!_ " Draco screeched, but Potter only laughed, completely unbothered, and Draco immediately let go of his wrist and took a few steps back. "You wouldn't - you can't prove - I'll-"

Potter smirked. "Yes, Draco dear?"

"Don't call me that, you-"

"Oh? Would you rather that I call you something else?" Potter asked innocently, running his finger against his own lower lip curiously. Draco panted, fighting the desire to get nearer and see what those lips were like up close, to pull him in and really kiss him for real this time...

"Don't - you can have your stupid cloak back, I don't want it, just shut up-"

"Aw," Harry pouted, "Isn't there anything I could give you in escange?" He smirked. "Like...something only I can give you?"

"Just fuck off," Draco turned away. "You can have your invisibility cloak back, Potter...just, just go back to your dorm like a good Gryffindor-"

"What invisibility cloak? I can't see anything," Potter grinned. "Clearly you must be seeing things, Draco."

 _Am I?_

"You can just take it and go, you don't have to torment me any more," Draco gritted his teeth.

 _Doesn't this bloke have a girlfriend? The female Weasley?_

"Oh, am I tormenting you?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Oh."

The two boys stared at each other in the dark. Potter looked down and backed up a step. "Sorry." The two boys inched away from each other, unsure what to do. Potter took off his glasses and began to clean them on his shirt, his green eyes glowing.

Draco studied his face, trying to figure what was going on in his mind. Potter looked up. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just...never mind."

"You can tell me. I don't mind."

"It's nothing," Draco looked wearily over his shoulder, counting down the minutes until he would be done with his shift. Strangely, it seemed as if he was frozen in time. It was just the two of them in an unending dark hallway. This filled him with a strange feeling he couldn't understand and he glared at Potter, frustrated. "Was that just...a joke?"

"What?" Potter's eyes glinted in the dark.

"You know, that...were you flirting with me for real, or just making a joke?"

Potter looked down at the ground, somewhat guilty.

"Yeah. Sorry."

Draco snorted in disgust and decided he wanted to walk out.

"I really don't know how to flirt."

Draco stopped and inhaled sharply. He looked at Potter again. His face was unreadable, looking out beyond and somewhat melancholy. It was pitiful.

"I don't like the way you're saying that," Draco coughed. "Just now you were saying something about my eyes and now you're all defeated and pathetic. What are you trying to say to me?"

"MALFOY!" A voice shrieked from behind him.

"Wha-"

Draco turned his head to see, when all of a sudden a spell shot out of nowhere and hit Potter square in the chest.

" _Riddikulus!"_ Granger shrieked, and the dark-haired, skinny sixteen year-old boy transformed into a mop, falling onto the floor on its own.

However, it started to transform into a stern-faced woman with dark hair pulled into a bun and emerald-green robes. "Miss Granger," the figure of McGonagall declared, "I'm afraid your recent activities, which have all been highly irresponsible, mean that you will simply have to lose your badge. Indeed, I believe your N.E.W.T. scores indicate that you are-"

"Oh no you don't!" Granger hissed, summoning a small tin can and opening it just as quickly with her wand. As soon as it opened, a sound of laughter erupted from the can. Professor McGonagall shrank away fearfully and vanished into a cloud of dust. Granger closed the can and tucked it into a little pocket in her night robes, clearly pleased with herself but still somewhat shaken from the encounter.

"I suppose Fred and George's Can of Laughter really does have some practical purpose," she remarked to herself, speaking a little rapidly.

Draco's jaw dropped.

"What just happened?" he gasped.

"I hate to tell you this, but _boggarts_ also really love tight spaces like closets," Granger replied drily. Draco blinked.

"You mean-"

"Hermione? Hermione, are you there?" Draco's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

A pair of green eyes behind round glasses appeared in the dark.

"I've been looking for you everywhere! Where did you put my invisibility cloak after you confiscated it? I need it for something, it's urgent, I-"

Draco decided it was an appropriate moment to faint.

* * *

 **Leave a review if you also agree that Draco is so far in the closet, he might just be in Narnia!**

 **-Raven.**


	3. Stupid Mud

_"That gives you equal status with Prefects! You can use our special bathroom now and everything!"_

"I should hope so," Harry muttered to himself. For an instant, he reached up to wipe off his smudged glasses out of habit only to realize that doing so would only make things worse. If Hermione was right, great, he'd have a slightly better place to wash off than the currently maxed-out Gryffindor boys' bathroom. Never before had Harry been suddenly gripped with such an urge to grumble "Fucking Seamus and his fucking toothbrush" angrily while looking for an empty shower stall.

Cormac had not made this any easier for him, not at all.

"So sorry about the whole um, mud," Cormac spoke, slightly flexing his muscles as he drew the shower curtain closed. "But you know, we're all trying to find a place here, and I promise I'll be right out in a few minutes! I'm sure it'll all wash off quickly," he nodded at Harry's shoes, which by now probably only belonged in a landfill.

"Sorry, Harry, I'm done showering but I just...I usually like to brush in here, you know, I don't have to work too hard to fill my mouth with water when I gargle and stuff," Seamus' voice came from the stall directly next to him.

 _I hope you choke on that toothbrush,_ Harry grimaced, and tried to keep his thoughts away from "I'll shove it up your-"

Muddy, soaked and apparently also odorous from the odd looks he was getting, Harry sat down on a bench glaring down everyone who dared to wonder why the current Gryffindor Quidditch Captain was on the shower wait list. After a while, some people finally got the hint and started ignoring him and minding their own business. Harry preferred this, and took to grumbling under his breath.

"Ron I swear if you actually let Cormac become our Keeper I will murder you in your sleep after I shove that toothbrush down-"

"Excuse me?" A voice came from behind him. Harry groaned and turned around, grumpily blowing a lock of dirty hair out of his eyes.

"I see you're clean," Harry drawled, observing Ron's immaculate but somewhat ratty pajamas. They looked a bit small on him, perhaps belonging to Percy or Fred or George. They still looked a thousand times more comfortable than mud-soaked Quidditch robes, though. He was also holding a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. His hair was wet, but still bright red as ever.

"And you're not. What are you doing, sitting in a corner and glaring at everyone? I thought you were Snape for a second there!"

"Well, in the words of Cormac McLaggen, "it's every man for himself." Apparently, especially when it comes to washing off mud."

"Aw, that's bull," Ron muttered sympathetically. "Hey! I know where you can go. You should check out the Prefects' bathroom! Oh, it's the best place to bathe, ever, I don't think I've showered here in _weeks_. You've never been there, right?"

"Um, of course not," Harry replied. _Well, it's not like Cedric invited me there or anything. In a very platonic, man-to-mate way, naturally._

"That's great! It's on the fifth floor, right behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered-"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry nodded, bored. "Password?"

"Wait...how do you know it has-? Whatever. It's, uh, 'squeaky clean.'"

"Great." Harry mentally retraced his steps and tried to remember the correct pathway.

"Yup. Are you sure you've never been there before?" Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Positive. I'd remember. If you've been bathing there for weeks, how come you're here?"

"Uh...well, I keep forgetting my toothbrush here."

"Right." Harry rolled his eyes so hard, he was fairly sure the earth rotated a little faster as a result.

"Also, like, you might not know this but Moaning Myrtle likes to check in every once in a while. You know, to see if we're feeling too confident about our bodies."

"I'll bring my Invisibility Cloak," Harry replied dully.

* * *

Grumpily, Harry retraced his steps, and after receiving dirty looks from rather neat roommates, opted to use magic to clean up after himself.

" _Tergeo_ ," Harry grunted for what felt like the hundredth time as he finally stood in front of the right statue. "'Squeaky clean.' Don't ask if I'm a Prefect, because I'm not, I'm Quidditch Captain and there is nothing you can say to prevent me from bathing in there."

Apparently, the statue had no qualms as it moved aside quite easily, allowing Harry to to pass through.

 _I do wonder sometimes how I could possibly have changed so much that I now expect statues to be aggressive._

Deciding not to make too much of a racket and attract Myrtle, Harry groaned and began to set up his change of clothes and towel near the edge of the pool-like tub. After experimenting with the various jeweled taps, he decided that the different taps gave water of different temperatures and infused with different substances. Not being too picky or interested in a milk (or, heaven forbid, _mud_ _)_ bath, he decided on regular hot water. With some fancy mint-and-vanilla shampoo to ensure he went from being Undesirable Number One to the best-smelling bloke in the entire school. As the bath began to fill up, he wearily glanced at the multiple toilet stalls on the other side of the room.

 _I assume the tub is the main attraction, so I do wonder, do prefects ever try to open the door and go "Guess we can't just shit right now, Weasley's taking a bath"? And is there a way to lock the door, anyway? And do prefects only bathe because showers are too plebeian for them?  
_

Just then, his thoughts were interrupted by an unpleasant surprise.

"'Squeaky clean', and be quick about it!" A nasal, slightly muffled voice declared from behind him. For a moment, Harry nearly thought he had just wet himself but realized it was just water from the tub filling up. Trying to think fast, he turned on every tap available, even the mud one, grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and took no time in diving under.

"...Bloody hell! What impudent arse was here last?" Whoever it was, came closer to survey the pool and started to peer over the edge. Harry tried to hold his breath, and was hoping the mud would help to conceal him from whoever it was. He could still see a faintly blurry figure, though. Just then he realized he probably should have hidden himself in one of the stalls. Perhaps he could try Apparating into one of them.

"Mud bath, milk bath, mint leaves, hot water, cold water, lukewarm water, Boston Tea Party, Norwegian sauna steam, flower petals, all of the possible infusions _and_ a bubble bath? Who left all of the taps running? This is absolutely ridiculous."

Just then Harry realized he could hear the person rather well for being underwater. In reality, he was not. Only his body starting from his chest down was really submerged. The rest of him was covered in a cloud of bubbles that smelled faintly like coconut.

"Just going to have to turn all of these off and drain this mess, I suppose." Harry had a strong feeling that the speaker was wrinkling their nose as they said this.

 _Must be Draco, from the judgmental tone._

"They certainly better be glad my father's not going to hear about this yet," the voice continued, sounding ever grumpier. "Even left their clothes! Are they streaking on the loose, now?"

 _Good heavens, that was just a joke!_

"First those idiot Gryffindors decided to start a mud fight and now..." Draco's grumbling voice continued, sounding muffled at certain intervals. After realizing the reason for this, Harry tried to console his disturbed mind by thinking of how many epic conquerors had probably surprised their enemies while wearing little in a bathroom and gotten away with it victoriously. Perhaps later generations would revere his sly strategy and marvel at him for having caught his enemy disarmed and completely defenseless rather than remember him as "The Boy Who Did Not Lock the Door."

 _Moaning Myrtle, now would be a good time to jump out of nowhere so that I won't be the only voyeur here._

 _"Tergeo!"_ Draco hissed, siphoning the remaining water from the bath. Harry had never been so glad to have an Invisibility Cloak before, even if it was uncomfortable how it clung to him wetly. Now, all he had to do was to find some way to tiptoe around, seize his clothes, incapacitate Draco and get a proper bath. Then leave. Or perhaps just take his clothes and leave, then spend the rest of the night waiting for one of the Gryffindor shower stalls to open up.

 _Or I can just murder Cormac and kill so many birds that Voldemort will really have to admire my talent with stones,_ Harry muttered to himself. Draco now had decided that the pool was clean enough to start filling it up again and was now complaining that there wasn't a tap that would allow him to bathe in "Mud blood." Or perhaps "blood of the bourgeoisie." Either way, it involved blood and the common populace.

 _So what's my escape plan? Jump at him with the Invisibility Cloak wrapped around my waist like some bizarre loincloth and Stupefy him? Attempt to blind him by squirting Aloe Vera Shampoo for Greasy Hair into his eyes? Chuck random soaps and conditioner bottles at him as a distraction then make a naked beeline for the door?_

"I swear if I catch that idiot, I'll murder him," Draco continued. Harry peeked through his fingers and hid further. Draco was currently leaning up against the edge of the pool, reaching for a shampoo bottle and grumbling about whatever came to mind. "I'll poke out his eyes and roast him on a spit and make a taxidermy puppet out of his empty skin and-"

 _I guess he really doesn't like mud,_ Harry mumbled to himself, still debating between element of surprise and unconventional escape plan. He also was trying hard not to think about Rita Skeeter writing an article about "that one time the Boy-Who-Lived used an invaluable Deathly Hallow as a kilt."

 _Hang on, how do I know what that is?_

"Hi, Draco! Oh, are you in the middle of bathing again?"

Draco turned, annoyed. "Go away, you stupid ghost," he growled. "I would wish you were dead, but you already are and yet you can't leave me alone!" Harry blinked, just barely breaching the surface of the water to espy Moaning Myrtle looking hurt and betrayed, as usual.

"Why are you mean to me? I didn't do anything," Myrtle sobbed, rubbing her eyes. "Maybe I'll tell you off to Filch! You wouldn't like that, would you? I'll tell him you're a bad bully and make him take away your badge and you'll never be able to use this bathroom again! Not until you learn to be nice to me!"

"Well you should really stop coming in here! I don't care if you think Potter might be back again, he-" Draco stopped himself. His eyes narrowed. "I did think those ratty blue pajamas looked too idiotic for any self-respecting wizard to be caught dead in."

 _Well did you think you would catch me properly clothed?_

"Myrtle, hang on a second," Draco drawled, reaching for his towel. He also drew Harry's change of clothes and towel closer to him. Harry gritted his teeth.

"Ooh, are you going to get out now? I mean, it doesn't seem like you've been bathing for very long-say! Are you saying those pajamas aren't yours? Do you mean-"

"Shut up," Draco growled at Myrtle, Transfiguring Harry's clothes into a plain washcloth. " _Bulla_ _capitis!"_

Tying his towel around his waist, Draco now dove under the water, his head surrounded by a large bubble that made him look like an angry astronaut who had been trapped in a giant fish tank by his mischievous diving instructor friends.

 _Shit, he's onto me._

Draco began to swim quick, angry strokes towards Harry's little corner where he was nicely covered with the Invisibility Cloak.

 _Should I stay and risk getting caught if he accidentally grabs me, or should I make a run for it?_

Apparently, out of all of the times it had been challenged, his fight or flight instinct decided now was a great time to perform the latter. In a flash, Harry tried to jump out of the bath and make a run for it.

"Aha!" Draco's slightly muffled-due-to-the-presence-of-a-bubble-around-his-head voice exclaimed, grabbing his foot. Exclaiming in pain, Harry felt his stomach hit to edge of the tub hard and he was dragged under, painfully hitting his chin on the edge as he sank below. Grunting, he attempted to fight off Draco by kicking him in the chest. Draco responded by grabbing wildly and managing to get a good purchase on Harry's ankles, latching onto him like a boa constrictor. Both boys yelled out and began to sink, with Harry wildly flailing and trying to reach the edge of the tub.

"Got you!" Draco declared triumphantly. Harry soon realized that in his flailing, he had lost the Invisibility Cloak somewhere in the water. "So what brings you to the Prefects' Bathroom, Potter?"

"Well, I am Quidditch Captain so technically I have a right to be here too. Would you mind giving my clothes back so I can just leave instead of us accidentally becoming even closer than enemies should be kept?"

"What do you mean?" Draco frowned.

"Oh my goodness, Harry! I thought I'd never see you again-" Myrtle squealed.

"I forgot a bathing suit," Harry deadpanned.

Draco wrinkled his nose wordlessly.

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, this isn't actually a public pool, and I expected it to be private so can you just give me my clothes and-" Harry began.

"Oh my goodness, Harry! Are you ever going to come see me again? You said you'd stop by, you know, and you still haven't! I was starting to think you weren't even planning to-"

Somehow, "Myrtle can we please have some privacy" got muddled up as the message was transmitted from his brain to his mouth and Harry ended up yelling "Go away, Myrtle!" at the same time as Draco. Myrtle's eyes filled with tears and she glared at them, looking angry again.

"I see that both of you are mean boys who just don't know how to be nice to other people. Fine then! I'll tell Filch, you know! I will! And I'll keep on haunting you until you can't-" A bar of soap flew through the air and passed straight through her nose. Blinking, Myrtle stared at the two boys, open-jawed. Harry shrugged and Draco continued to fix the wall behind her with a weary stare. "Fine then, I'll leave! I never liked you anyways!" With that, Myrtle turned up her nose and vanished into the sewers.

Harry turned to Draco. "So. Can you give me those back?"

"I don't know," Draco drawled. "What would you do in my place, Potter?"

"Oh, I'd leave that washcloth in a high place and then run away laughing while you try to jump up and reach it," Harry replied. Draco narrowed his eyes. "Oh. Sorry if that offended you."

"Not at all," Draco replied, sneering contemptuously. "Well, here you go, I suppose."

"You're-you're really just going to give them to me like this?" Harry blinked, taking the washcloth from him.

"I'm not a soulless force of cruel evil, contrary to what _some_ people think," Draco drawled.

"But you just-"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I simply did not wish for her to hover around watching everything. In fact I find it quite uncomfortable when other people are around staring. Don't you think so? Unless you really do enjoy fame as much as Miss Rita Skeeter says?"

Harry winced. "Certainly not. I guess I get that. Well, thank you."

"No problem," Draco's lips curled into an unpleasant smirk. "I suppose now that we're older and supposed to be examples for the underclassmen to look up to, we'll simply have to stick together, don't you think?"

"I...guess? Um, love to stay and chat but I-uh, I've got to-"

"But of course. Since you've already washed off, I hope you don't mind if I stay here and finish washing my hair."

"Washing your-oh, no, of course not. Er-I'll just go now, er, yeah." Draco nodded curtly as he moved over. Harry quietly grabbed his towel, which had been concealing his wand, found his Invisibility Cloak and wrapped it (along with his towel) around his waist. Something still seemed off. Hesitating slightly, Harry turned around to see Draco leaning against the edge of the tub, calmly waiting for him. "...Alright, I'll just go now," Harry muttered. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. Deciding he had already seen enough, Harry turned around and walked over to the door.

It would be a while before he realized that he had no idea how to Transfigure the washcloth back into his clothes. After hiding from Peeves while praying silently under the Invisibility Cloak, he was thus forced to consult Hermione in the morning, and discovered once she had changed his Quidditch robes back that Draco had somehow branded them with the word "STALKER" in flattering chartreuse letters.

"I don't see what's so funny about it," he frowned as Hermione kept giggling.

"Oh, no, it's not that," Hermione replied, already beginning to undo the hex. "It's just, couldn't you have used the Room of Requirement instead?"

* * *

 **Leave a review if you thought the same thing as Hermione!**

 **-Raven.**


	4. And I'm A Jarvey

"Imagine what it must be like to still be in Care of Magical Creatures," Ron yawned, trying but not really trying to turn the pieces of rubbish into tissue boxes.

"Yeah, I know," Harry muttered, wishing he was better at Transfiguration. "Feeding Flobberworms through the wrong end, befriending hippogriffs and Blast-Ended Skrewts...what do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione bit her lip, trying to concentrate. "I don't know, Harry, I'm very busy studying for NEWTs already and I don't have time to argue about the existence of chupacabras."

"Ah," Harry nodded. Just then, the door behind them opened with a bang and Draco, muttering curses and excuses, walked over to where Crabbe and Goyle were pushing their tissue boxes across the table to each other.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall exclaimed, and began to lecture him. Draco simply made a sour face and ignored him, crossing his arms and pretending not to notice his box of tissues. "Where is your Transfiguration book?" Draco rolled his eyes. "Mr. Malfoy, please go fetch a used copy from the back of the room." Sulking, Draco stood up and sauntered over to the closet at the very far back and grumpily extracted a dusty-looking book then proceeded to slam it onto the table loudly.

"You honestly think that guy is a Death Eater?" Ron hissed to Harry. Harry turned to look at Hermione, who made a show of ignoring him.

"Absolutely positive," Harry replied. "I don't think he would have paralyzed me then stomped onto my face if he was just telling tall tales to his little cronies."

Hermione looked up at him, alarmed. "Was that why you came in later than everyone else?"

Harry looked down. "Yeah."

"Have you heard the rumors that Draco's also involved in other sneaky activities?" Ron hissed.

"Huh?"

"Just today I heard one of the Slytherins say they think he's trying to become an Animagus."

"An Animagus?" Harry frowned. "Why would he ever want to be a ferret again?"

"I dunno, just a thought," Ron replied, turning red. "Well, I also heard Pansy telling Millicent Bulstrode that he-"

"Spare us, please," Harry and Hermione muttered.

"What? What's wrong?" Ron stared.

"Ron, us Muggleborns have a certain saying. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," Hermione grunted, trying to make her tissues unscented.

"If she secretly suspects Malfoy of being a unicorn, then she probably doesn't know the difference between a horned horse and a horned bull," Harry added, deciding that the world needed a tissue box fort.

"Okay..." Ron muttered. "I was just going to say, Pansy was telling Millicent that Draco's pet died."

"Oh," Hermione muttered, softening.

"What was it," Harry muttered, "a Hungarian Horntail?" Hermione glared at him in response.

* * *

"I do wonder if he ever gets tired of her holding onto him," Hermione remarked, carrying a leather-bound book with golden lettering about the size of a breakfast tray. They had just passed Pansy and Draco, who were standing in the middle of the hallway arguing about something. Harry began to open his mouth then decided he was a better man and shut it. He wondered if they would be able to walk past the pair without being noticed.

"Hey Granger, is that for reading or weight-lifting?" Pansy called out, nodding at the enormous book in Hermione's arms.

"Pressing flowers! Maybe you should try it sometime?" Hermione replied brightly. Pansy turned towards Draco, mildly confused. He rolled his eyes and escorted her away.

"So, that's the face of a newly initiated Death Eater?" Hermione hissed under her breath to Harry as they rounded a corner.

"I'm pretty sure he's involved in some sort of shady business," Harry muttered back. "I saw him walking towards the Forbidden Forest yesterday, maybe he's planning on killing a unicorn or something. You know, it's been done before."

"How very abominable indeed, but I doubt Pansy would let him. How do you know about that, though?"

"I was thinking of visiting Hagrid," Harry lied, "and I saw him along the way."

"I see," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, thank you for escorting me to the library. If you don't mind, I'd like to remain here for a while."

"That's fine," Harry replied, thinking of his scheduled meeting with Dumbledore and wondering how to casually introduce the topic of Draco's evil initiation. "Say, what is that book for?"

"Oh, I got a little bored so I thought I'd try looking in the encyclopedia section," Hermione yawned. "Big mistake."

"Too boring?"

"No, I had to carry this darn thing to my room and back, but I've already read this in the library near my parents' house," Hermione replied. "Stupid me. I should have been able to remember what volume I was on."

"What will you read next?"

"I think I'll re-read my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,_ " Hermione replied. "It'll probably be useful to know how to deal with magical creatures and at least _I_ don't scribble all over my books," she sent him a pointed look.

Deciding to leave her to her own devices, Harry left the library and found himself moving towards Hagrid's cabin at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid appeared to be out and about, and there was a crate in a corner from which Harry could hear strange noises that he decided for the good of the world should never be opened. Wandering past the pumpkin patch and sighting a few thestrals, he wondered what he should do next. He decided to take a walk and return for dinner. Much later, once the sun began to set, he decided to turn around, having ventured far enough for one day.

A bush shook. Harry blunked and began to approach it. Before he could step any closer, however, an animal crawled out and turned its head side to side. When it saw Harry, however, it froze in its tracks, staring at him. Several minutes passed. The animal stepped back, alarmed. It stopped once more.

Harry, too, froze and couldn't help but stare back. "No way," he muttered. "Are you-?"

 _Shut up_ , the animal glared at him. _Shut your damn mouth or I'll bite you to death._

"Easy, easy," Harry knelt down, blinking and wiping off his glasses. "Now, whatever happened to you, you poor creature?"

 _I don't know_ , the ferret seemed to say as it glared back at him. _But once I find whoever made it happen, he's dead meat and I don't care how many Avada Kedavras he's survived._

* * *

"Whatever are we going to do for you?" Harry looked around. Nobody appeared to be there. "Maybe I can hide you in Hagrid's cabin, or among the animals that the first years are taking care of."

 _No fucking way,_ the ferret glared.

"Come on, Draco," Harry smirked. "I need your help to help you, after all. Don't tell me you want to be left here so the centaurs and Death Eaters can come find you?"

The ferret was absolutely furious, but it silently agreed with Harry. It wanted out of the Forest now.

"I don't think you can just trot alongside me. You seem like you've been running around for a while," Harry remarked. "If you want, I can carry you." The fur at the back of the ferret's neck stood up and it bit him, causing him to let go of it. "Hey! Ow!" Wasting no time, the animal quickly jumped away from him and onto the ground.

"Just joking!" Harry called out. "Sorry to offend you." It hissed at him and ran straight off. "Hey, wait, come back!" Harry began to chase after it. "Stop, seriously! It's dangerous over there-you have to come back now!" The ferret showed no sign of stopping. It galloped faster and faster and it was getting harder to catch up to, until it banished out of sight. "Hey, if you go there, you'll run into...oh, Merlin," Harry swore, pulling out his wand. "This is not good."

Groaning, he raced through the trees, wincing as he ran over sticks and bumped into branches that scratched his body or blocked him from running in a straight line. Soon it would be dark and that would not be good. Running into the heart of the forest, Harry hissed " _Lumos!_ " and hoped for a miracle.

 _Please let him not run into them. Please let him just stop and stay in one place so I can find him. Please, let him not be_...

There! He could see them, now. Dark, ominous shapes, all gathered and congregating.

 _Oh no_ , Harry felt his stomach drop. "I'm too late."

The Acromantulas had gotten to him first.

Harry sank to the ground behind a tree. "Poor Draco," he muttered, watching the enormous arachnids wave their spindly limbs and weave a web around something. Wait. Harry blinked, edging closer. "That should do it," Aragog's voice grunted.

Another Acromantula snapped its pincers, sounding faintly hungry.

"No, he can't get away," Aragog replied, snarling. "We'll just have to figure how to split it."

 _They've got him! They're really planning on eating him!_ Harry needed to get closer. Wishing he had his Invisibility Cloak, he ran to a nearer tree and tried to peer over the Acromantulas. It would be so much better if he could just see from above their heads. Sudenly, an idea occurred to him.

 _Maybe_...

Harry turned back and bolted away.

The little ferret, caught up in the Acromantulas' thick web, squirmed and shivered. It was absolutely terrified and had no idea what do as the ginormous spiders inched closer, leering hungrily and making strange clacking sounds that made its body shake.

Just then, a loud voice yelled " _ACCIO BROOM! ACCIO BROOM!_ COME ON, WE'VE DONE THIS BEFORE, HURRY UP!"

The Acromantulas, momentarily distracted, stared at each other with stunned expressions as a skinny teenage boy flew into their midst and landed directly on the web holding their prisoner. "Hold on, Draco, wait a moment!" He yelled.

"Get him!" Aragog commanded. "He has the prey!"

"Ugh, why is this so damn thick?" Harry cursed, trying to use a Severing Charm on the thick threads that were more like woven ropes holding the ferret down. " _Evanesco!_ Dammit _, Sectumsempra!_ " That, apparently, was enough. The angry Acromantulas lurched forward, grabbing at him with their pincers and making awful growling sounds, but Harry quickly scooped up the ferret in his arms and took off like a streak of lightning. Deftly, he flew them through the trees and occasionally fired curses at the Acromantulas until they stopped giving chase and retreated.

"You alright?" Harry asked the ferret, holding it in one arm and using his other to guide the broom. If it was really Draco, he was far too traumatized and tired to respond. "It'll be over soon, I'm sure. Once we figure out how to fix you up." He was approaching the Gryffindor boys' dormitory window and quickly cast _Alohomora_. Apparently, this was not enough, and Harry was fairly sure all the windows were made to be unbreakable. Groaning, he considered his options. He circled around the castle, searching for an open window and ducking when McGonagall happened to look out of hers, but concluded that they all had been closed as it was now dinner time. He wondered if whoever had closed the Gryffindor dorm window had noticed his broom shooting out towards the Forbidden Forest.

"I'll try sneaking you into the Room of Requirement, I suppose," Harry mumbled to the exhausted ferret. "Then I'll get some dinner for us from the Great Hall." Just then he remembered he had left his Invisibility Cloak in the boys' dorm. "Oh, right." He also had no idea how to perform a Disillusionment Charm. "Shit."

The ferret stared at him wearily.

Harry fumbled around in his book bag, trying to take stuff out and make enough space for the ferret-which was still a fairly large animal. "Gah!" He dropped an entire inkwell, spilling it inside. "Damn!" The ferret sent him another tired look. "Look, sorry, Hedwig is my only pet and she can take care of herself...hey, can I try hiding you with the owls or something?" The ferret glared at him. "Fine, fine, I guess she would probably take you for a rare delicacy and peck you to death. Erm, let's see..." Harry looked up and down and realized he really didn't have anything to hide Draco with, not even his wand. "Um...maybe you can...hide...in here?" He pulled at his robes.

The ferret sent him a look that let him know it was not impressed.

"Look, I'm sorry. This is seriously all I've got, okay? Just...trust me, I'll get you there safe and sound."

Reluctantly, the tortured animal crawled up and onto his shoulder, then down under his collar. It poked its head out from near his chest and narrowed its eyes at him. It was definitely odd and awkward but Harry really didn't want to comment on his own stupid idea and feel even more stupid. "You comfy in there?" Harry asked, expecting to be bitten. If ferrets could really roll their eyes, he could have sworn that this one had just done so.

"Harry! Where have you been?" Ron blinked, staring at him.

"Oh, just taking a walk. Where's Hermione?"

"She's in the Room of Requirement, doing something which she says requires absolute privacy and threatens to skin whoever bothers her."

 _Great timing_ , Harry thought to himself grumpily, feeling something bite him. "Ow."

"If you ask me, I'm about a hundred percent sure that she just wants to read something completely bonkers. Come, let's grab some food," Ron turned around and strode towards the Great Hall.

Harry looked down as the ferret peaked out of his collar. "Shall we?" He blinked. The ferret looked back at him. "Alright, I guess we will then. Please don't bite me again."

"Potter!" A voice shrieked and something yanked the back of his collar so hard that it nearly strangled him. Harry swiveled around, suddenly face to face with Pansy. "Have you seen Draco?"

"No, why?" Harry asked, struggling to loosen her grip on his robes and not choke.

"I've been looking for him everywhere, and I can't find him! We were going to visit the Magical Menagerie and buy him a new unicorn!" Pansy whined.

"Oh, if you're looking into something larger, why not a Crumple-Horned-"

"Shut it, Lovegood," Pansy glared at Luna, who was wearing a puffy white dress that made her look like a cloud and glass bubble jewelry.

"Oh, I've heard that Snorkacks are particularly populous during this time of the year," Harry nodded, grateful to Luna for the momentary distraction as Pansy had let go of his collar. "Excuse me, um, I have some...homework I have to do." Grabbing some food, Harry quickly backed away and started to walk off.

"Oh, Harry," Luna walked up to him, "if you're working on that complicated essay on Jarveys, I can help."

"Thank you, Luna, but I-"

"I insist," Luna replied, grandly grabbing onto his arm. "See you later," she nodded serenely at Ron and Pansy.

"Could you please put this back on my bed for me?" Harry whispered, handing a confused Ron his broom.

Once they were out of eyeshot, Harry turned towards her and spoke. "Look, Luna, I'm very thankful to you for helping me out back there, but there's something I really-"

"Jarvey," Luna replied coolly.

"...Huh?"

"Jarvey," she pointed at his chest. Harry blinked. "I can see him with my Spectrespects," she replied. Harry felt his face turn warm. "Just kidding," she cocked her head slightly, "I saw him peeking out of your collar earlier. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh...you mean, my um...companion?" Harry asked as the ferret stuck its head out, annoyed. Luna smiled and patted it gently on the hood, further irritating it. "He's, uh...I call him...Bitey." _God, I'll probably name my son something stupid like "Joe Wizard."_

"He's got a weird look in his eyes," Luna remarked. Harry stared at the ferret. "Did you put him under a Silencing Charm or is he just mute?"

"Oh, uh...he...he's not a very talkative chap," Harry replied.

"Well, let me know if he ever speaks up."

"I will," Harry replied, already feeling something sharp vengefully digging into the back of his neck. "See you, Luna." She waved back at him and started moving and twirling away, not even stopping when she reached a staircase. Fascinated, Harry watched her continue to descend it, secretly wondering how she kept her balance. "Well, glad we took care of that. I guess we can go see Hermione now..."

The ferret swiped at his glasses and Harry grimaced. "Why not? You know she's the smartest person here, besides a teacher, and she's just as trustworthy. I don't suppose you want Snape to see you like this?" The ferret paused. That was true.

 _Not that you're trying to impress him and move up Death Eater ranks, of course..._

"McGonagall, then?" The ferret hunched its back, hissing like Crookshanks. "Dumbledore? You know he can fix you, no problem. Okay, um, Flitwick? Madam Pomfrey? Come on, give me a choice here, all I got left are Professor Sprout and...ow! Okay, who do you want me to take you to, or are you just going to sit there and claw at me?" Harry asked crossly. "Nobody? Fine, okay, we're taking you to Hermione."

The ferret suddenly made a sound that resembled chuckling and wrapped itself around his neck. "What are you-augh!" Harry lost his balance and fell over, losing his glasses. The ferret hopped around excitedly, trying to figure something out. "It's too bad you're not a real Jarvey, otherwise you'd be able to talk," Harry muttered. "Okay, we can just turn you back later. How about we eat first?"

Sudenly interested, the ferret stopped chittering and turned towards him, staring hungrily. Concentrating hard, Harry tried to make the food he had Vanished earlier reappear.

"Let's see...uh, I saved some shepherd's pie, a roasted chicken leg, and for dessert some treacle tart. How about it?"

The ferret, suddenly disappointed, came near the plate and sniffed it tentatively. Unsatisfied, it turned around and started to walk away.

"Oh, come off it," Harry crossed his arms, "what are you, vegan?"

The carnivorous animal glared at him as if he had just offended its entire existence and genealogy.

"Well, if you want I could get you a dead rat from Hedwig's barn..."

 _Draco Malfoy doesn't eat gristly chicken legs or dead rats_ , the ferret seemed to be hissing at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted foie gras and caviar then?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

 _Damn straight!_

Harry rolled his eyes, wondering what he would do with himself if it turned out the ferret was just another ordinary animal.

* * *

 **Review if...um...you would like me to check out your fanfics and leave a review/PM. Or if you want Tom Felton to release the spiky hair Polaroids that Daniel Radcliffe was teasing him about.**

 **-Raven**


	5. And I'm A Jarvey Part Two

"You want me to go back and get you more food?" Harry crossed his arms, now more wary of the ferret than ever. It did not nod, but it thumped the ground with its right paw repeatedly, in a universal gesture that reminded him of a prince or a particularly spoiled Papillon dog. "Aren't you just a little rajah. Well, guess what, little Lord Fauntleroy. I'm not your father, and I've already stood up to the Dark Lord. There is no way you can possibly-"

The ferret turned to face him and narrowed its eyes.

"Threats aren't going to work, no matter how many injuries you give me," Harry replied.

The ferret jump back and forth excitedly. It had a very nimble body and could run in quick little circles, almost as energetic as a young cat. Harry backed up. The ferret made its odd chuckling sound and started playing with the hem of his robe.

"I'm not going to-"

The ferret gave him its best pleading look and rubbed against his leg.

* * *

"Dobby is so pleased to see Harry Potter has come to visit him," Dobby exclaimed excitedly, "and brought his...pet?"

"Funny you should ask," Harry replied irritably as he leaned back in the provided chair. The house-elf kitchens were always a little warm. "Why, that is your old Master-"

The ferret turned around.

"I call him, uh, Hugo," Harry replied.

Dobby blinked, his eyes wide, but perhaps that was just because they always were. "If you say so, Master Potter."

"I told you not to call me that! Anyway, how are you doing? How is Winky?"

Dobby shook his head. "Winky is off to consult friend of hers. Very strong with much force. His name Master Y-"

The ferret signalled Harry by thumping its paw against its dish. Rolling his eyes, Harry picked up another clean napkin from a pile that had been accumulating and wiped its mouth, grimacing all the while. Smirking at him, the ferret instructed him to tie a smaller one around its neck and went back to delicately nibbling its meat quiche.

"-so Dobby now have wand, but mostly now use it for cutting roast beast or lighting dark passageways," Dobby finished. "Not good for lightly injuring."

"You don't say," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes as the ferret smugly watched him cut the quiche into tiny pieces for it. "I hate you, by the way." The ferret went back to eating, looking much happier than a Dudley surrounded by forty-four birthday presents.

"Will Master Potter be visiting the kitchens again?" Dobby inquired.

"I don't know, depends if Victor here wants a midnight snack," Harry replied.

"Is Master Potter's pet not named Hugo?" Dobby frowned, confused.

"I don't know, I can't name anything properly," Harry stood up. "So sorry for all the trouble. It is nice to see you again though, Dobby. Hey, I brought you a present." The ferret, curious, turned and looked over. "Don't tell Dumbledore, or he might get jealous."

It was a pair of knitted socks.

"I figured since the last one you had was really dirty, you ought to have a proper pair," Harry replied. "Seriously, don't show Dumbledore, though..." He cut himself off when he realized Dobby was putting them onto his hands.

"Dobby is so pleased! Dobby still has Master Harry's precious sock and sleeps with it every night, but these are wonderful!"

"Yeah...um...I guess you can use them as oven mitts, or something," Harry replied.

The ferret was still staring at them quizzically. _Why would you try to be friendly with a house-elf?_

"I guess you're finished eating? Huh. Do you want to stay here?" The ferret hopped down onto the ground and walked over his feet. "Alright, I guess you want to leave now. Well, see you Dobby."

"Goodbye, Master Potter," Dobby smiled warmly and hugged him. "Let Dobby know if his friend needs anything." Surprised, Harry grinned and hugged the little house-elf back, feeling a small sense of relief after all that had hapened.

Quietly, the ferret softly scrtached on the hem of his robe. "Okay, okay, give me a minute," Harry muttered absentmindedly, as Dobby fondly squeezed him one last time.

Holding the door open for the ferret, Harry followed after it for a while. "So, do you want to go back to your dorm and grab anything? You sleep with a stuffed dragon, or something like that?" The ferret glared at him, then started to trot away.

"Hey, where are you going? Are you...looking for someone?" It stopped moving and started to wander aimlessly and circle around itself. "You don't really want go back to the dorms, do you?" He had gotten that right, alright. The animal stayed where it was on the floor, shivering.

"Look, are you scared of what the others will say? I mean, they're your friends, but if you want I can probably find a place for you. If Hermione has left the Room of Requirement and you don't want to go back, I mean." The ferret shifted its weight, still shivering.

"Or are you looking for a particular thing? Hang on, did you leave your wand somewhere?" Harry asked alarmed. The ferret scratched its head nervously.

"Are you...did you get into a fight with Pansy?" Did this have something with Draco being a Death Eater? He now wished he was a Legilimens so he could read its mind.

"Look, if you want I can go and, um...fetch your stuff. I just need to go to my dormitory and grab..." Harry crossed his eyes, realizing that no matter how harmless Draco might appear, he didn't exactly want him to know about the Invisibility Cloak.

 _Should I ask him to just close his eyes while I get the cloak?_

 _Should I try and Stupefy him while I get the cloak?_

 _Should I kidnap Goyle and use the Imperius Curse on him and make him fetch Draco's stuff?_

 _Should I ask Hermione to smuggle me some Polyjuice Potion and transform into Goyle again?_

 _Should I look up the formula to the Disillusionment Charm and hope it works on the first try?_

 _Should I ask Hermione?_

"I have an idea," Harry muttered to the ferret, picking it up again.

* * *

"I need Hermione Jean Granger now! I need her help really bad!" Harry hissed at the blank wall in front of him, and the door finally appeared. "About time- _Hermione! Are you awake?"_ All he could see was a mountain of books about the size of a Christmas tree. A bushy-haired girl peeked around them, glaring at him.

"I thought I told Ron that I was not to be disturbed," Hermione spoke huffily. She was lying in the middle of a book with such a large spine that she could practically have used it as a bed.

"It's an emergency," Harry replied quickly. "You see, this ferret-OW! It's actually-"

"Rabid?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"No, no! He's actually-AAAAUGGH! What are you putting up a fight for?"

"You can stop bullying Harry," Hermione muttered gruffily, "I don't think I've ever forgotten Draco Malfoy, the great bouncing ferret."

Draco stopped and landed on the ground, sitting still and giving Harry the stinkeye.

"Well well, Draco. So, the rumors about you trying to become an Animagus are true?"

Draco glared at her and hissed. "He means no," Harry spoke. "Ow! Stop that," he rubbed his ankle grumpily.

"I'm sorry but I'm absolutely flooded with work. Go talk to Professor McGonagall or Snape," Hermione glared. "Unless you're also an unfortunate victim of Polyjuice Potion, too."

Draco looked up at Harry, confused. "Best left unsaid," Harry silently mouthed back.

"I'm sure that your condition is only temporary... However, I suspect you may just need Pansy."

"Pansy? Why?" Harry frowned. Draco, too, tensed up. He began to look at the door and skitter around nervously.

"I don't know," Hermione yawned indifferently. "Don't you have other places to be?"

"Isn't there any other hint you could give us? Any idea what this might be?" Harry frowned. "Can I, um, leave him with you while I go fetch his stuff or whatever?"

"You're welcome to, but I'm not sure if Crookshanks will like that very much," Hermione replied. A growly purr came from a corner of the room and Draco jumped back, curling up near Harry's ankle. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no, none whatsoever," Harry replied, backing away towards the door. "Um, if you'll just excuse us..."

 _That thing is a cat?_ Draco scurried alongside him without even protesting. _It looks more like some kind of ravenous beast. I wouldn't want to stay in a room with something like that._

"Well, technically, nobody's safe in a wizard's house," Harry muttered.

After they had found a quiet corner and caught their breath, Harry turned towards Draco. "Okay, you already knew about the Room of Requirement, but this next one is kind of a secret. Please don't tell on me." Pulling out the Marauder's Map from his pocket, he whispered "I solemly swear I am up to no good" as quietly as possible.

Strange writing appeared on the parchment.

 _Mr. Prongs would like to remind the user of this map that any member of the Malfoy family is not to be trusted._

"It's fine, dad," Harry muttered, impatiently tapping the parchment.

After much searching and pondering, he finally found Pansy's name. "Come on, Draco," Harry muttered, closing up the map. The ferret stared up at him, but he offered no explanation. After a few minutes of jogging then waiting for the ferret to catch up, Harry finally bent down and allowed it to climb onto his shoulder and into his collar. Hoping that Pansy would not move too much, he ran as quickly as he could to the hallway where she was on patrol duty.

"Why isn't she here? Oh, bother it all," Harry groaned, staring at the empty expanse of moving stairways and dead ends in front of him. " _Lumos!_ Let's see...maybe she went...this way?" He finally located her after talking to a few sleepy, irritated portraits and found her telling off some first year Hufflepuffs.

"Pansy, do you have a minute?" Harry yelled, flailing his arms so wildly that Draco nearly fell off his shoulder.

She turned around and glared at him. "Go away, Potter, can't you see I'm busy-"

"It's urgent! It's an emergency and only you can help!" Draco hid inside of the front of Harry's robe, and the Hufflepuffs wasted no time in getting away. "It's, uh, got to do with Draco!"

"Draco?" Pansy lunged at him. "Where is he? Did he say he's going to buy the unicorn after all? I've been looking all over for him and now I have to do patrol duty by myself!"

"He, uh, was, transformed into...an animal and he needs your help," Harry replied. He felt an ever so tiny but excruciatingly painful bite. _Why do I even bother_...

Pansy wrinkled her nose and reminded Harry of a pug more than ever. "What? I can't hear you."

"I said," Harry frowned, "that he's been transformed...into...an...animal!"

Pansy shook her head and crossed her arms. "I don't see why I chose to believe you, but clearly that was a mistake. Go to bed, Potter. That was mean."

"I'm not lying! Here...he's right here!" With some protest, he got Draco to peek his head out from his collar. Pansy jumped back, screeching.

"Get it away from me! Ew! It's so nasty-looking!"

"It's not his fault," Harry replied, "but this really is Draco, I'm not lying-"

"Just stop already!" Pansy shrieked. "I've had enough-if you do that again, I'll make sure you get sent to detention!" With that, she angrily turned away and ran off.

Harry sat there a moment, holding Draco. The ferret stared up sadly at him. _Am I really that unpleasant to look at?_

"Er...well, about that...Hey, Pansy! I think you forgot something!" Pansy didn't even turn around or stop running. Harry broke into a sprint and hollered angrily, waving the ferret up and down like a madman. "OH LOOK, IT'S A CHUPACABRA!"

* * *

"Well, that accomplished little," Harry grumpily walked down the corridor towards the Slytherin dormitory.

 _I had no idea you had such a temper_ , the ferret stared up at him, though it too looked as if it had just been through a tussle.

"Yeah well I guess we're both filled with surprises," Harry replied. "I haven't even got an eighth of the amount of brains that Hermione has, so I guess I'm just going to concentrate on getting your stuff for now and then tomorrow we can try to appeal to your girlfriend again. Sound good?"

The ferret looked nervously at the ground. They stood directly in front of the entrance to the dormitory.

"Why are you two fighting anyway?" Harry frowned. "Is this really about unicorns?" No response. "Hey, I'm sure she's worried about you." Just then, the ferret quickly turned around and ran towards him, hiding behind him. "Wha-"

Just then, the entrance opened and Harry jumped back, alarmed.

"-and then Draco said, "I thought you told me you could read,"" Goyle nodded emphatically at Crabbe, who looked mildly perplexed by this information. "And I said..." Just then he narrowed his eyes at Harry, who had backed away too late to hide from them.

"What are you doing here, Potty?" Crabbe sneered.

"Oh, nothing," Harry replied. "I was just wondering if either of you two gentlemen...er, could lend me a helping hand. See, your friend Draco told me that he's been looking like mad for that present he bought for Pansy-"

"Draco lost a unicorn?" Goyle asked, confused. "I thought he said he wasn't going to give her one..."

"Pay him no attention," Crabbe replied, glaring at Harry. "We know Draco and Pansy broke up. You can't fool us."

"Oh, but I'm telling the truth. You see, you remember that time that Professor Moody turned him into an animal?"

"I do!" Goyle replied excitedly, then looked chastised after Crabbe nudged him and squinted at Harry skeptically.

"Well, actually, the reason why they were fighting so bad was because she wanted him to give her a ferret that was just like him, and as you may recall...the memory was, slightly...sore."

"Right," Crabbe narrowed his eyes. "So what are you trying to-"

"Look! A ferret!" Goyle gasped as Draco shot out from behind Harry and ran down the hallway.

Crabbe frowned. "I do not believe a single word about-"

"Quick! Grab it!" Harry gasped. "Draco's relationship with Pansy depends on that ferret!"

"I'll get him!" Goyle yelled, casting unsuccessful spells.

"Look, Potter," Crabbe growled, "I don't know what you're trying to do here, but just know that I'm not going to-YEEOOOOOW!"

"He's on your face!" Goyle yelled out. "Uh, don't move! _Aguamenti!_ " Draco jumped out of the way just in time for Goyle's spell to hit Crabbe in the face.

" _Son of a-!_ What were you even trying to _do_ , you idiot?" Crabbe hollered, taking a swing at Goyle's face. Goyle ducked just in time for the ferret to jump onto Crabbe's arm and bite him, causing him to howl in fury. With a nimble twist, the ferret quickly escaped and began running down the hallway. " _After that loathsome beast!"_ Crabbe howled, running towards it without pulling out his wand. Goyle continued to jog after Crabbe, bumping repeatedly into him and puffing.

Now that the way was open, Harry wasted no time in entering the dormitory. After some hiding and disguising himself (by taking off his glasses and messing up his hair even further so that it covered his eyes), he introduced himself as his emo alter ego Javert and searched for Draco's stuff. He finally found a worn Transfiguration book, a toiletry kit and some eerily neatly-folded clothes. Harry grabbed a change of clothes, the kit and took the Transfiguration book for good luck. He then hurried downstairs and looked at the Marauder's Map, searching for Draco. As he couldn't find Crabbe and Goyle anywhere on the map, he guessed that Draco had probably led them to the Room of Requirement, where they were discovered by a furious Hermione and experienced the fullness of her wrath.

"Draco? Draco? Oh, there you are. I found you some clothes and stuff, though your wand wasn't there. Did you leave it somewhere in the Forbidden Forest?"

The ferret nodded and squeaked. Harry knelt down and let it climb onto his back. "We can fetch it tomorow." However, something occurred to him. "Wait...are you sure you wouldn't rather stay in the Slytherin dormitory?" Just then he heard the doors to the Room of Requirement open with a bang and shrank back into the shadows.

"And STAY OUT!" Hermione's shrill voice yelled at them.

"I swear if I catch that damn ferret, I will skin it," Crabbe muttered, limping slightly.

"Uhheuh," Goyle replied tiredly, his lips too swollen to speak with. Leaning on each other and muttering painfully, they made their way back, plotting out their revenge against the ferret should it try to enter the dorm.

Harry felt a faint bite again. "What, now?" He glared irritably.

 _You done goofed_.

"Shut up," Harry pushed the ferret's face away from him. It responded by biting his finger again. Maybe it was just annoyed at having been forced to distract Crabbe and Goyle.

Either way, he would have to find somewhere else for Draco to stay.

* * *

 **Review if you have strong opinions regarding chupacabras.**

 **-Raven**


	6. And I'm A Jarvey Part Three

"I'm sorry, this is the only place I have," Harry looked down at the ferret. It stared back up at him. They were currently looking at Harry's bed, which had not been made and was covered in books, clothes, Quidditch equipment and some of Ron's slippers. "Hang on a second. RON!" He yelled at the log in the bed a couple feet away from him.

"Whuh?" Ron muttered grumpily without turning around.

"Get your stuff off my bed, please!"

"Whatever," Ron muttered, pulling off his slippers and some of the Quidditch equipment. He went back to snoring instantly.

"You can sleep here for a while," Harry muttered to the ferret as it jumped off his shoulder and tried to find a cozy spot among the various stuff piled on the bed. "I'm sorry, I'll put some of this stuff on the floor..."

After he returned from a shower, Harry found the ferret curled up on the pillow as close to the wall as possible. It faintly stirred when he approached the bed and squinted at him.

"Sorry, did I wake you up? Um, I guess I'll go...ask Hermione if she's done or something..."

The ferret loped forward and tugged on his sleeve with its teeth. It then jumped off the bed and found a spot on the floor, hidden by the canopy curtains. It did look very uncomfortable, though.

"Oh, it's alright, you don't need to sleep on the floor. Here, you can have the corner near the wall and I'll just roll over," Harry knelt down. The ferret looked up at him questioningly. "It's okay, I don't think either of us will really take up much space."

 _On account of me still being a small animal_ , Draco looked tired.

"Right. Why don't we try looking in here and see if we can find out a cure?" Harry grabbed the worn Transfiguration and helped Draco climb onto the bed as well. Once the ferret was nestled on the corner of his pillow and he had drawn the curtains closed, he opened it up to the first page and started ridling through absentmindedly. "I wonder who might have been the previous owner...oh my God," Harry gasped.

 _This book is the property of PRONGS._

 **Shared with Padfoot because his fell apart.**

Why don't you just buy another one?

 **Write in your own book, Moony.**

"This book is my dad's! My dad's old Transfiguration book," Harry gasped. Draco edged a little closer. "Look! He's written all these notes...I wonder..."

Most pages included scribbles in James Potter's and Sirius' handwriting. Some also included Lupin, and on occasion there were a few doodles that neither Harry nor Draco knew what to interpret as. What was most interesting, however, was how James Potter regarded Transfiguration. It must have come naturally to him, as he had crossed out certain long passages and added sparse notes whenever he thought of a better way to carry out a spell of combination. There even were a few spells he had invented himself, with unclear notes like "never again" and "worked great, but Wormtail is too scared to chew gum now." However, Harry did find a small entry where he realized James was gloating about having found Snape's Potions book and lifted a few spells...including Levicorpus. He quickly turned the page, feeling a pang of guilt.

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to read anymore. He decided to close the book, when he came across a particular spell written in James' handwriting.

"Draco," Harry whispered, "were you trying out this spell in the Forest?"

The ferret looked at him and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"He probably invented this while he was learning how to become an Animagus! Let me see what he wrote about...oh, wow, he actually wrote it down," Harry muttered. "'Human-to-animal Transfiguration spell. Tried it out on Rana earlier, worked perfectly, he came crawling back to his girlfriend. Will require some modifications though, because we still haven't figured out he managed to reverse it _.._.'"

Draco looked up at him, alarmed.

Harry flipped the page. "Maybe he ran out of space, you know...he probably improved the spell and wrote down the method for reversing it later." But the more he leafed through, the more sparse the notes became, and the amount of spells dwindled until there was nothing but blank pages and a few absentminded Arithmancy equations scrawled into the margins.

Draco made no noise. He was completely silent and immobile. He looked rather lonely and small, curled up near the edge of Harry's pillow.

"We've got to find it...Lockhart was bragging about that charm he pretended to use on werewolves and transform them back into humans, right? Homocorpus thingy or something like that..." Harry flipped over to the index. The spell was mentioned briefly, but its formula was not revealed as it was "a spell so complicated that only very few wizards of incredible experience and aptitude can properly execute it." Harry rummaged around. "I've just got to find my wand, and then..."

Draco whined and tugged on his sleeve.

Harry continued searching. "I've summoned a full-bodied Patronus, I'm sure if I try hard enough...or if we go and ask Hermione...He said that it was reversed somehow, so we've got to find some method..." He scrambled around, looking for his cloak. "Maybe we can look for the formula in the Forbidden Section. All we have to do is-"

He felt another gentle tug on his sleeve. The ferret looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"But we...I still have to...you..." Harry's shoulders dropped and he sighed, putting the wand back. "I'm sorry. I just...I'm sorry," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry. I guess we really will have to beg Pansy for forgiveness, and..."

The ferret licked his hand. Harry sighed and tentatively patted its head. The ferret made no complaint and rubbed its head against his hand as it really were a cat.

Outside, everything seemed to sit still and quiet. Harry sighed and gently ran his hand through the ferret's soft fur, still wondering over how to reverse the transformation.

"You know, Draco, maybe you're a better person when you're in this form."

 _Shut up, you_.

They sat in silence for a while. Harry stroked the cover of the Transfiguration book, puzzling over it. James' treatment of Snape still lingered on his mind. But then again, there was the kind father who he had seen playing with his son, who overcame death to save him from Voldemort because of a miracle that had a million to one odds against it.

The ferret was drowsily nudging his hand, falling asleep. It had no qualms about being treated like a little pet. Despite himself, Harry smiled at its sleeping face. Never would he have expected to see such a peaceful expression in such a situation.

 _I wonder...if he's starting to forget himself_.

With a pang, Harry wondered what would happen if Pansy refused to help them. Perhaps the ferret would forget entirely that it had once been human. Or perhaps he really would have to consult Dumbledore, only to be told "My boy, it's far too late." Harry frowned. The ferret nudged his hand again and inched closer to his face.

"Hey," Harry murmured. "Thanks for the Transfiguration book..."

The ferret remained, its eyes wide open, almost questioning.

"What?" Harry blinked. "Something on your mind?"

The ferret obviously said nothing but continued to stare.

 _Surely there has got to be a spell for this_ , Harry thought to himself. _Or I've been literally talking to an animal this whole time and have lost my damn mind_.

"What, you want me to flip through again?"

The ferret grumbled a bit, which really just sounded like odd chuckling.

"Or do you need a bedtime story to go to sleep, you spoiled rich boy wearing ferret skin?" Harry smirked. "Well, I'd normally call up Hermione for this, but I think she left one of her books with me...somewhere..." He yawned and stretched out, reaching underneath his bed. "Ah! Found it." It was a faded book of fairy tales. "Let's see...uh...the Little Mermaid, Cinderella, Maid Maleen, Frau Holle, King Thrushbeard, oh hey, the Fearless Youth, that was funny..."

 _Do you have the Three Brothers?_ The ferret's eyes shone and it clucked loudly.

"No idea what you're talking about, sorry," Harry replied, continuing to page through. "Oh, this one's just like you!" He snickered, pointing at an illustration of _The Frog Prince_.

 _I don't get the joke_.

"Oh come on, its funny."

 _Perhaps you need a new prescription, Potter, but I am clearly not amphibian_.

"No, you see, it's cause the frog is actually this guy who got turned into one by a witch. And, and..." Harry trailed off.

 _What?_

"Uh..."

Harry shook his head. "Let's just read about the Valiant Little Tailor."

 _You didn't finish telling me what happened to him_ , the ferret frowned. _Does he ever turn back? And how do you Muggleborns have books about magic?_

"I...well, um, he does turn back..."

 _He does?_

"Yes."

 _Then for Slytherin's snake, how does he do it? Can't you tell me?_

"Well, I was going to, but I'm not sure if it actually would apply to this situation. After all, this is a set of tales compiled by Muggles...so far as I know..." In the back of his mind, Harry could faintly picture Hermione shaking her head and pointing to some arbitrary history book, mouthing "Incorrect! The Grimm brothers were about as mundane as Hagrid's favorite pets, Harry!"

 _But what was it?_

"It...it...fine," Harry groaned. "It was a big ol' snog. Happy?"

The ferret stopped and froze.

"Yeah," Harry muttered grumpily, chucking the book away. "No Satanic rituals of transmogrification. Disappointing, I'm sure."

"Mph!" Ron yelped, his reaction to being hit with the book slightly delayed.

The ferret sat there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, then looked up at him.

"What?"

Obviously there was no verbal response in English.

"What, you want to try?" Harry joked.

The ferret begrudgingly nudged him, but it seemed now absorbed in some other mental debate.

"Well?"

The ferret said nothing. Harry sighed. "I guess we'll just have to call Pansy in the morning, then. Once Hermione's helped us to make sure that Crabbe and Goyle never mention the demon ferret that attacked them."

The ferret turned around to stare at him.

"I really wish there was some easier way for us to communicate, you know."

 _Why are you even bothering to do any of this, Potter?_

"I know, right? It's so hard to even stay awake at this ungodly hour. I can hardly even believe I'm trying to think right now..."

 _No, I don't mean that. Why do you even bother trying to help me? I don't get it._

Harry narrowed his eyes. Ron's snoring grew slightly louder.

 _Do you have some complex about saving other people where you have to help anyone and everyone you see, even if they've bullied your friends and belittled you for six years? Or are you afraid that you have to do it because of something else? You know, outside of the Chosen One and everything, what else are you? Are there still going to be people who want to stick with you in the end? Do they really love you knowing just how messed up your life is and how hard it's going to be for them in the future? Is there any goodness in humanity?_

"I..." Harry shut his eyes. "I think I'm projecting my inner monologue onto your silence."

Ron snored loudly and rolled over, slobbering onto his pillow and muttering "no spiders" before falling back into a coma.

"You know what, let's just get this over with so you and I can get back to our respective lives, and some sleep. Here, I'll help you turn back if you want, especially if you promise to never harass anyone ever again. Stop giving the Muggleborns a hard time. Stop trying to harass me and emotionally bowl me over. That way, you'd be doing me a huge favor. How does that sound?"

The ferret did not say much, just stared at his outstretched hand a little oddly.

"You know, while we're on this subject, I'd like to mention the fact that a Muggleborn girl just beat the living daylights out of your two cronies, singlehandedly. Not only is she better at magic than you, but she doesn't feel the need to push someone else down to feel good about it. I've seen her feel not good enough plenty of times, but she doesn't take it out on other people and give them the same misery. And my mother was a Muggleborn witch who cast the magic that not even the Dark Lord, who your family considers the most powerful wizard in the world, could break. She is the reason behind the only known case of surviving the Death Curse up until now. I can help you, if you promise to stop giving into stupid preconceptions and trying to make yourself better than other people. Deal?"

The ferret's eyes darted around uncomfortably. It looked rather jumpy, too.

"I mean, maybe a kiss isn't the actual solution, but you are going to need someone to translate for you, right? I mean, McGonagall and Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey might be able to figure what's up, but how are you going to make it across Hogwarts to them? Are you ready to get attacked by Peeves, Fred and George, or worse... _Haaagrid_...while running through the hallways?"

The ferret shivered.

"Oh, Hagrid. Hagrid. He is going to hug you with _so_ much warmth and unadulterated love."

The ferret froze.

Harry smirked. He knew he had it now.

"So what do you think?"

The ferret glared at him, but did not bite him. Reluctantly, it put its paw into his hand.

"I want your absolute word that you will not be an asshole to Hermione, or any of the other Muggleborn students, or any of the Squibs, or just...that you will stop treating people like an ass. How does that sound?"

The ferret was silent, but it did not protest or look away.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Harry grinned. "Now, can I get a kiss from you?"

The ferret rolled its eyes. No, seriously, it did. Without making another sound, it edged closer and licked him on the cheek.

"Gack!"

"Mph-!"

Ron Weasley, who had just been ambushed by a brigade of Acromantulas and chased around by Aunt Murray and swimming in a sea of Devil's Snare, yelped and fell out of bed. Startled, he tried to right himself and grabbed his slobbery pillow, shaking it out and pointing his wand at the source of strange noise. " _Lumos!_ " he hissed.

Its beam swept across the floor and now shone in the face of two boys who simultaneously yelped and backed away.

"H-Harry?" Ron mumbled, his upper lip trembling. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine! Just fine!" Harry yelled, pushing aside the blonde boy who gave a muffled yelp and covering him with the duvet. "How are you, Ron?"

"Oh, nothing," Ron shivered slightly. "I think something hit me...and I keep hearing odd sounds...I think I'll go sleep in the Room of Requirement."

"Oh...um, sorry about that," Harry replied a little guiltily. "Well uh, good luck with that."

"Why does it always have to be spiders?" Ron whimpered as he limped away, wrapping his worn blankets around himself.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and unwrapped the struggling form that was Draco, who gasped and tried to free himself from the coverlet. "So, you're completely back to normal now?"

Draco coughed and tried to fix his hair, which by now was mussed up. "Well I don't know, Potter. I've been running around acting like an animal, gotten screamed at by my ex-girlfriend, and licked the Loser-Who-Doesn't-Know-How-To-Croak-Like-A-Normal-Person all on the same day. I'm not sure if I'll ever be the same again."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like a bad thing at all," Harry replied sunnily. Draco glared at him harder. "Well, if I were you, I'd at least be grateful to the kind and wonderful and gracious person who fed me and helped me navigate throughout Hogwarts safely. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, sure," Draco narrowed his eyes. "Many thanks, Potter."

"Now, please, remember to also keep that promise we made earlier," Harry winked. "Otherwise, you know, if it turns out you've gone back to harassing people, I'll have to turn you back and deliver you to Crabbe and Goyle. Or, better yet, Hagrid, so he can hug the terrible childhood out of you and turn you into a kind and unselfish person," he winked.

Draco turned pink and shook his head. "I'll do whatever you ask, Potter, if you'll stop making uncomfortable images."

"Aw, how kind of you. Well, off to bed with you!" Harry cheerily shoved him off the bed before Draco could open his mouth and protest. "I'll make sure to hold you to that last part, too!"

"Wait-" Draco sputtered.

"What, you want to stay? Come now, Draco, you have other important business to address! Like explaining to your girlfriend where you've been for the past, oh, I don't know, eight hours? Who knows, I haven't taken a math class since I turned eleven- be careful not to make the Fat Lady too suspicious, you know!"

"Hang on, wait, I want to talk about something!"

"No time to talk anymore, sorry, it's past midnight," Harry replied cheerily. Dean and Seamus stirred slightly, mumbling something under their breath. "See you!"

"But- why did you help me out-"

"No particular reason," Harry smiled brightly. "Good-night-Draco!"

With that, the Fat Lady begrudgingly swung the door open, too tired to bother protesting and Draco Malfoy tumbled out in an undignified heap. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled, relieved.

* * *

"I'm so sorry Hermione, I totally forgot you were in the Room-"

"Well, doesn't everyone seem to?" Hermione grumbled, though more out of habit rather than actual anger. "Speaking of strange occurrences, how did the whole thing with Draco go down? I see your little friend is gone."

"Huh?" Ron raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"Oh, it went fine," Harry replied cheerfully. "We figured out a solution, took care of that."

"I see," Hermione replied, and turned a page in her book slowly. "I did think of a solution, but I sort of felt like it might be better to tell you later...anyway, I'm glad you figured it out anyways."

"Yup," Harry flashed a smile. "No problems at all. Problem solved."

"I don't know what's going on," Ron mumbled.

"Sorry about your life, Ronald," Hermione replied, fixing a strand of his ginger hair, which had gotten into a mess. "I'll tell you later."

"You will?" Ron breathed.

"Well, see you guys. I have, um, some stuff to do."

"Really? You're not going to stalk Draco and find out if he's secretly plotting something nefarious?" Hermione blinked innocently.

"Oh, no, I suppose he's cleared of suspicion...for the most part, you know, anyone whose Animagus form is a ferret can't be very good at hiding things," Harry shrugged.

"If you say so," Hermione raised an eyebrow, and he knew she was only letting go of the issue out of tactfulness. "Well, if you're not going to talk, I suppose I might was well tell you that you seem to have done him a turn, transforming him into a human. He walked past three groups of girls and hasn't said a single nasty thing to them. He even asked Marcus Flint to stop earlier."

"Really? Um, I mean, wow, I don't think I can take credit for everything but that's nice."

"Nice?"

"Yup."

"Mm," Hermione looked away and went back to neatly cutting up Ron's hash browns for him. "Even helped Colin Creevey when he had a bit of a hard time reaching one of the books on the higher shelves earlier."

"Oh, Colin, good to know he's doing well."

"Mm," Hermione replied again, thoughtfully. "I mean, I'll still Hex him any day now for the things he's said to me, but I admire the fact you have at least set him on a path to being less of a prat. May I ask what your secret technique was?"

"What are you two seriously talking about?" Ron asked, only to be shushed with a forkful of hash browns.

"I don't think I should talk about it in front of Ron," Harry replied pointedly. "Now if you excuse me, I have an agenda. Saving the world, that is."

"You know that both Ron and I have been crucial components in that agenda!" Hermione yelled as he jogged away from the Gryffindor. "Harry James Potter, get back here or I'll tell McGonagall that I pretty much wrote that essay on nonverbal spells for you!"

"What?" Minerva McGonagall looked up sharply from the teachers' table.

"Nothing!" Hermione turned pink and let go of Harry's robes, allowing him to escape and sprint away at full speed as if on fire.

From the Slytherins' table, Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes and pushed away his plate, uninterested in finishing the rest of his plate. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle continued to yell and bicker around him, but they were too self-involved to notice him stand up and walk away.

"That boy!" Hermione groaned, picking herself up and shushing Ron with another helping of hash browns.

Draco said nothing, only continued to walk. "Oof!" Harry bumped into him as he ran and the two boys locked eye contact for a second, then Harry sprinted away once more.

* * *

 **Review if you want more ferret Draco to appear sometime.**


	7. Childhood Antihero

He first heard the words "Harry Potter" uttered with disgust at the dinner table. His parents had been very displeased with his decision to ask questions and sent him to his room, where he spent an hour throwing pillows at Dobby. He waited a few nights and then decided to bring it up again.

"So who is this Harry Potter and what happened when he met the Dark Lord? Did he put up a fight or something?" Draco looked up during supper and made direct eye contact with his mother. He had no trouble acting bratty to her in front of his father, but he still hesitated to do so the same to him directly.

His mother's right hand gripped the soup spoon so hard that her knuckles turned even paler. She turned towards her husband and muttered "Lucius, I told you we should have waited-"

"Nonsense, Draco is old enough to know the cause of the Dark Lord's downfall," his father replied, his expression unreadable. Draco watched him with interest, unable to decipher whether he was pleased or sardonically faking it. "Draco," his father nodded at him grandly, "do you remember what we told you happened to Auntie Bella?"

"Yes," Draco replied, as he had heard the story several times. "After the Dark Lord vanished, she was sent to Azkaban because she refused to give up her allegiance to him."

"Exactly," the corners of his father's mouth curved slightly. "And the reason for this was because of Harry Potter."

Draco was incredulous. This man had put his aunt, reportedly one of the most powerful and uncontrollable witches in the family, into jail? After just one try?

"What happened to him afterwards? Was he killed by one of the other followers?" Draco asked eagerly.

His father turned towards his mother. She huffed and shook her shoulders, as if removing herself entirely from their conversation. He then turned back towards his son. "No one has been able to find out his whereabouts because of Dumbledore," he sneered ever so slightly, "but my best guess is that either one of us got to him, or he's starving in some poor Muggle orphanage where they don't let you get second helpings."

Draco blinked. "An orphanage?"

"It's where they sent unwanted children," his mother replied coldly, pushing away her empty tureen and standing up. "Come on, Draco, it's bedtime now."

Draco obediently stood up, laying aside his unfinished soup and hobbling towards her. Gently, he took her hand and followed her to his bedroom, where she instructed Dobby to fluff his pillows one last time.

"So, nobody knows what happened to Harry Potter or who he is? Wait, was he...a Muggleborn?" Draco asked, still confused.

"I don't know, sweetheart," his mother replied, combing back strands of hair out of his eyes. "It's better not to worry about people like him."

Although Draco was already smart enough to know that Harry Potter was most certainly a traitor and dangerous resister who had betrayed the Dark Lord, he still admired him in a way for having the power to overcome the all-powerful man he had grown up hearing about. But he didn't feel the same way about Dumbledore, of course not, he only thought of him as intriguing.

"How long ago was this?" Draco asked sleepily, staring at his mother's angular face. Her brows furrowed slightly, but she replied anyway.

"Around the time you were five years old." The room dimmed, and simultaneously the night lights turned on, illuminating their faces with an ethereal blue glow. "You were just a tiny baby, and when we heard the news we couldn't believe it."

"So..." Draco thought over his father's words once more, when something occurred to him. "Wait...when Father said that he might be in an orphanage, does that mean...he's also a child?"

His mother narrowed her eyes. "You're not _sympathizing_ with him, are you, Draco?" she sneered and reached towards him. Draco flinched slightly, but she was only pulling up the covers to tuck him in.

"No, of course not! He's...he's the enemy, just like anyone who would try to defy the Dark Lord," Draco replied. "It's just...how could such a small child resist the power of the great lord? Did Dumbledore protect him or something?"

"I don't know, darling, and I don't think we should ever care to," his mother replied, kissing him lightly. Her lips felt cold on his forehead. "Good night, sweetie."

"Good night, Mother," Draco replied, clutching the blanket closer. As she walked away, looking like a frail ghost under the night lights, he looked around and called out "Are you sure the boggart is gone?"

She paused slightly and looked over her shoulder. "Yes. I do think it is. If not, just call us."

"What if you don't hear me?"

"Of course we'll hear you, Draco, we always do," she replied flippantly, drawing the door close without making a sound. "Good night."

"Can't you stay and check the closet? I think I can hear something rattling."

"There is no boggart. Go to sleep, sweetheart."

"Okay."

* * *

"Just think of it," Draco grabbed the sheet of parchment and absentmindedly started rolling it up, "in just a few hours-"

"Yes, Master Draco?" Dobby asked meekly.

"Stop interrupting me, Dobby!" Draco glared, then went back to his fantasizing. "Just think of it-I looked him up, and I was right! Harry Potter is a wizard, he has to be...it's somewhat unfortunate that his mother was Muggleborn, but his father was a Pureblood! I knew he was connected to _one_ of the Pureblood Potters branches!"

"Yes, Master Draco," Dobby replied, picking up a crocheted coaster. "Is Dobby free?"

"No, Dobby, that is a mug coaster. Anyways, I thought he might related to Charlus Potter, you know, since the Blacks are close to me and his godfather was Sirius Black," Draco wrinkled his nose slightly at the thought of his second cousin, "but no, it turns out he's a descendant of Fleamont Potter, completely different. So we're not related," he muttered somewhat more quietly, "but he _is_ a wizard! And he was born just one month after me, would you know it!" He looked down to see Dobby eyeing the coaster mournfully. "Here, Dobby, catch!" he barked.

"Yes, Master Draco!" Dobby replied eagerly. "What is it? Is this clothes?" he asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes, it is, you are free Dobby," Draco smirked. "Go out and wear it proudly now."

"Thank you so much, Master Draco!" Dobby replied, running out wearing the paper cone Draco had just fashioned for him on his head.

Snickering to himself, Draco went about his planned daily activities. He had been waiting for this day for eleven years and he was not about to waste any of his time.

"Come on, dear, we're going to Diagon Alley," his mother spoke, sounding somewhat worn down and somewhat indifferent as usual. He wondered if perhaps she had been different before she'd married his father. He doubted his father had really changed much to accommodate her, though.

"What about Borgin and Burkes?" Draco whined slightly. The first time he had seen the display of bloody eyeballs, he had been somewhat scared and held onto his father more tightly, but now he was older and more used to such sights. He had seen a gaggle of lost children wheeling around in fear, cowering from the shop window, and smirked to himself while passing them by. Now, he practically asked about Knockturn Alley every time they Floo'ed somewhere.

"We won't have any time for them today," his mother replied briskly, "but you can ask Father for a pet when he joins us, Draco dearest. Now let's go." He hesitantly grabbed her strangely cold hand and, determined to get it over with, stepped into the giant fireplace with her.

"'Ey! Watch over whose hem you step on, you brainless fools!" An old lady shrieked as they entered the familiar hallway of Gringotts.

"Oh dear, I suppose I should have been more careful," his mother replied, smiling quietly. "Judging from the look of you, it must be one of your most precious possessions. Perhaps a family heirloom?"

"Wha-no, this is just somethin' I got a thrift shop, whaddaya tryin' to-"

"Oh, I see, my apologies," Narcissa Malfoy replied coolly. "Now if you'll excuse us, my son and I are terribly low on funds. Is it alright if we withdraw a few paltry thousands?" she asked their family goblin innocently.

"Of course, madam," Gizmo replied, "I see you're planning to be more economical for this trip?" His eyes glinted.

"Spare me, Gizmo," Narcissa sighed dramatically, "I'm already holding myself back on the Eulalie's Exquisite Essences sale this Sunday, you know."

Smirking at each other, mother and son held hands and walked away, leaving the poor old woman speechless as she clutched her meager purse of Knuts and Sickles.

Although he would not say it aloud, Draco himself was secretly pleased to be out and about and seeing the other wizards his age, even if he knew they weren't pureblood elite. Sure, he knew that they could never compare to his intelligence level and made poor companions due to their lack of conversational skills, but it was interesting to see the way they reacted to small things such as Kneazle crossbreeds or Florean Fortescue's fifteen-flavor soda fountain. He smirked. Their little minds would never be able to comprehend (or even stand) the visions he had seen from Knockturn Alley, but still, they were amusing. He did strike up a conversation with a poor little wastrel, but he left before he could recommend him some Sleekeazy's or even ask for a surname.

"Oh, they release a new model every year," he scoffed at the Nimbus 2000 display, much to the wide-eyed children's surprise. "I don't have a broom yet, but my father says it's better to wait until next year when the technology's much more improved anyway, and then he'll buy me a new one. You'll see."

"You know, I've been planning all my life for this, and it's quite odd to think that it's happening already. I wasn't even surprised to get a letter from Hogwarts, you know, my parents were thinking of sending me to Durmstrang but we didn't want to go that far. I think I might even know which wand I have-you see, wand wood skips a few generations in my family, and my mother was hawthorn, and my great-great grandmother had unicorn hair, so I figure I'll get either of those," Draco drawled, casually lighting a vase of flowers on fire. Ollivanders nodded wordlessly. "You should thank me, honestly, those poinsettias were rather dreadful. I can't stand the sight of red and gold. By the way, was there a Muggleborn here earlier or something? This place is a mess."

"All of those spells are complete duds," he flipped through a section of curse books. "You'll see-they're just silly nonsense for turning things yellow and keeping naive little kids busy. See, they read just like a Muggle nursery rhyme," he demonstrated, waving his new wand. The children shrieked and flinched, but when nothing happened, they gasped and clapped for him. Some of the older ones just glared at him and moved on. Draco smirked and politely asked them for their last names, making a mental note of who was going to or currently did attend Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts, am I right?" he smiled curtly at a girl with frizzy hair who had picked up a huge assortment of books, even more than the amount he had.

"No thank you, I already paid," she rolled her eyes and rushed past him quickly.

"Rude," Draco muttered, then went back to playing around with his new wand. "So, Father, you'll buy me a broom won't you?"

"I don't know, Draco, we'll see," Lucius Malfoy replied. "Maybe when you're older."

Draco frowned, but decided to leave it as he just wanted to go home anyways. "I bet Harry Potter is out here somewhere, you know, up to no good. He might even be doing the same thing as us, buying things for school now that he's eleven as well."

"Nonsense," his mother took his hand in hers. "Besides, you know their kind shouldn't be allowed in here."

"Of course, mother," Draco agreed instantly, gripping it tightly.

"What a good son I have," Lucius Malfoy remarked, gently patting his head.

* * *

 **Review if Bellatrix Lestrange is your childhood antihero**.


	8. Childhood Antihero Part Two

So that was it.

Draco glared at the bandage on Goyle's hand as the Trolley Witch tended to his wounds and Crabbe eyed the Chocolate Frogs nearby.

"Oh dear," the Trolley Witch muttered, "I'm so glad you boys came to me, otherwise you might have gotten a nasty infection. And where did you get this bite from, my dear?"

Draco ignored Goyle's unintelligible grunt and went back to sulking.

He had met Harry Potter, the real one, and he was the skinny-looking waif from Madam Malkin's. The wastrel who had come along with-no joke-that big oaf, Hagrid the gamekeeper.

Did he know it from the strange scar that everyone talked about? But he couldn't really see it under that mass of hair, to be honest. Draco sneered again and tore upon another pack of Bertie Bott's, letting jelly beans spill everywhere. Dobby wasn't here to eat the nasty ones for him anymore, but he picked up a harmless-looking bubblegum pink one and chewed it voraciously. A few seconds later, he spat it out, unsure what unpleasant taste was making him gag. Probably soap, now that he thought of it.

"Gimme that," he growled at Crabbe, who handed him a Licorice Wand. Draco tore a bite out of it, gnawing and ignoring the intense medicinal aftertaste.

And what was up with him and that Weasley brat? Internally, he had been pleased with himself for being able to identify him, but that little sniggering cough had not gotten past him.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Now that had rubbed him wrong. So Hagrid and Weasley children were better company than him. Draco had an urge to spit out the licorice chew in someone's face, but his mother had encouraged him not to keep that habit up as a child, and ever since she embarrassed him about it in front of the entire family he had stopped.

Was that supposed to insinuate something?

 _Big talk from a dirty old Halfblood_ , Draco growled. His mother was a Mudblood, wasn't she?

"You have problems," a voice in the back of his head muttered.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed and threw the jelly beans. The Trolley Witch yelped and looked over her shoulder, realizing that Draco and Crabbe had been eating from her stash.

"Oh my!" She gasped, then the apples of her cheeks grew even redder. "I'm afraid you boys will have to leave now! And you," she turned towards Goyle and eyed him suspiciously, "I daresay that infection might have affected your head, but perhaps that's impossible already!"

Confused, Goyle allowed himself to be shoved out by the angry lady and followed Draco. "So what do we do?" he asked, blissfully licking an Acid Pop. "Woa, this is sour."

"Let's go and give those idiots a thrashing, Draco!" Crabbe insisted, a malicious glint in his eye. "I'll hold his hands behind his back and you can hex him!"

Draco considered this for a few moments then changed his mind. "No...it's better to strike back when they least expect it. My father told me that," he grinned cruelly. "Let us wait for a while and bide our time. Then, I shall challenge him to a duel...or maybe I won't even bother, who knows," he yawned casually. "Now, how many Cauldron Cakes did you manage to nab, Crabbe?"

"Eight," Crabbe grinned and held up his stash.

"I see," Draco nodded, counting out exactly four. "Well, I suppose since there's three of us, it's only fair that we should split them up evenly. Goyle, you get this large-looking one," he picked up the driest-looking one, "and Crabbe gets his share and I keep the rest."

"Wait, why do you have two and I have one?" Goyle asked.

"Crabbe also has one, you see," Draco pointed, as Crabbe licked his lips and bit in. "Also, you have a green lollipop, so it's more fair that way."

"I see," Goyle said gleefully. Crabbe whimpered quietly, complaining about toothache. Perhaps he had underestimated the hardness of the chocolate cake a bit. Or perhaps it was just another cavity.

"You're welcome," Draco grinned as he opened up his own. It had always been this way, hadn't it? Yes, this was where he belonged-a natural leader, with those who were at his level according to what really mattered. No need for some inferior Halfbloods who couldn't tell a diamond from a piece of coal. They didn't deserve to survive at his level.

"Draco, I can't eat this, my tongue hurts," Goyle whined. "It feels like it's burning."

"Yes, that's probably because of the Acid Pop," Draco nodded.

* * *

"You mean you really met Harry Potter? But wasn't he Sorted into Gryffindor?" Pansy asked, confused.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I'm not about to repeat myself. The point is, he made a very stupid decision and turned my offer down," he sneered. " _Quite_ stupid."

"So then...what is your plan, Draco?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm, I suppose I will have to find something...infallible," Draco's eyes wandered across the Slytherin common room. "Hm...say, what did that old codger say of the third hallway whatever? Didn't he mention that it was highly dangerous or something?"

"Yes, I think so! Why, what about it?"

"I think I may have a plan," Draco grinned. "Just you wait. First plan of action is figuring how to get my Father to smuggle in a broom. And then I'll be on the Quidditch team before he can, just you wait," he smirked.

"Wow," Pansy blinked, wide-eyed. "You're really going to do all that, Draco?"

"Absolutely," Draco stood up and roused Crabbe and Goyle, who had somehow fallen asleep in their high-backed chairs. Draco glanced at the green lamps and stone walls surrounding him. He was finally within his own element, where he belonged. "Believe me," he grinned at Blaise and Pansy, "that old codger might say otherwise, but this is _our_ time. We are the true legacy of..." He then remembered what his mother had told him and caught himself. For a second, he felt a shiver of fear and wondered if Blaise or Pansy had noticed.

Apparently, they had not. They were still looking up at him and waiting patiently.

"-of Slytherin," Draco finished, "Slytherin, that is. The greatest!" He raised his hand triumphantly. Crabbe clapped wearily and Goyle rolled over, drool covering his entire left cheek.

 _And although it is a pity he can't seem to understand_ , he sneered underneath his breath, _I suppose I can do just fine without Potter, no matter what powers he's pretending to hide. After all, the Dark Lord's are greater. No doubt about that._

* * *

 **Review if you are pretty sure the Slytherins just spend time making bets on how soon Draco will start chasing down Harry Potter's train compartment at the beginning of each year.**


	9. Cute Little Coffee Shop

"I don't get it," Draco groaned. "What even is this bloody shit? Arithmancy?"

"Calm down, Draco, it's just some silly questions about converting potions," Pansy replied, "see, all you have to do is..." Her face turned white and she put the paper down. "Can't you ask someone else?"

"Yeah, yeah," Draco rolled his eyes. "None of us are going to get this. We might as well just give up," he groaned and threw the scroll onto the floor. "Who wants to go raid the Hufflepuffs' snack box?"

"Me!" Goyle yelled loudly.

"Wait, Draco, I have a better idea," Crabbe grinned. "Just wait until we visit Hogsmeade again, and we can go somewhere much better!"

"Oh, really?" Draco raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by that?"

* * *

"Why are we in Madam Puddifoot's, you insolent fool?" Draco snarled at Crabbe. "And you...why are you smiling like an idiot?"

"But...the tea is good," Goyle stammered, gently putting down a gold-inlaid teacup with dainty pink roses.

"Perhaps we've been spending too much time with Umbridge," Draco frowned slightly. "Anyway! Let's leave this besotted hellhole of a place-"

"Wait, I think I can see Potter with his girlfriend, and they're headed right heeere," Crabbe mused, pointing out the window.

"What?" Draco demanded, whipping around.

"Oh look, he appears nervous and easier to pick on," Crabbe added. "You could steal his girl away from him by exposing his pathetic idiocy right now, you know."

"You don't say!" Draco replied, smirking to himself. "Goyle, you may continue to drink that over-sweetened swill, Crabbe and I will begin to tackle our most important mission...being _Inquisitive_."

"But Umbridge told us not to tell others-"

"Shut up, Goyle, drink your tea like you're supposed to," Draco snarled.

"Okay," Goyle replied, looking down and staring at the teacup, which by now was covered in pink confetti petals, making its contents undrinkable.

"Alright then, Crabbe," Draco hissed. "Let's go get a table and try to blend in so Potter won't notice."

"Get a table?" Crabbe blinked. "What do you mean blend in?"

"You know, do what other people are doing so we don't stick out, why?"

"Uhh..."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Draco slowly edged away from whatever was happening between Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner.

"You know what, Crabbe, just go sit next to Goyle. I'll take care of this myself."

Crabbe made a face. "But the tea is so-"

"Oh, for Slytherin's snake, are you a wizard or what? Just don't drink it if it offends you so much," Draco snapped irritably. With that, he sat down and watched Potter and Chang do the same, facing the other way. Potter did look around and almost noticed him, except for a moment where he noticed Crabbe and Goyle and seemed somewhat puzzled.

As he watched the argument between Potter and Chang unfold, however, he began to feel somewhat off. Perhaps it was because of the cherubs or the pink petals that were ruining his hair, but it became even more uncomfortable to watch as Chang ran out crying. He had been thinking of ways to get her away and the look on Potter's face, and watching her dump him without any effort required on his part was satisfying, but it also unsettled him.

 _Remember_ , he hissed to himself, _these people are the enemy. They will band together and form an alliance of Mudbloods, of all pathetic things, and fight for Dumbledore's cause._

After Potter chased after Chang, then, Draco began to wonder if someone had left something in his tea because he seriously was not feeling quite up to speed. Or something.

"Maybe you're growing a conscience...?"

"Shut up," Draco growled at nothing in particular, but he did manage to startle Blaise Zabini's date. "So sorry."

However, just then the door opened and Potter returned, looking depressed. Why? He had already paid. Oh...he had forgotten to tip. Or something. Regardless, all he left were a few Knuts. Draco decided that returning to his routine would make him feel better. Yes, now would be an excellent time to go in for the kill and finish him. Draco stood up and made his way over.

"Hello, Potter," he hissed in his ear, grabbing him by the shoulder. The scrawny boy stiffened and turned around to face him. Draco began to regret being so close and decided to take a step back. He could still be intimidating from a few feet away, after all. "So, it appears you just got dumped by your lady friend. Awww, it just seems you keep on losing all of the closest people, doesn't it?" he smirked.

Potter, now having seen his face, went from startled to somehow calm and almost strangely subdued. "Draco," he replied in a tired voice.

"What? Are you gonna _cry?_ "

Potter just looked down and readjusted his glasses with both hands, his expression unreadable. "So you've aware of it. Have you heard?"

"Heard what? That she was the one to dump you because you'll never measure up to her boyfriend, whose death you caused?"

Potter glared at him. "Shut the fuck up and stop talking about Cedric that way."

"What?"

"You can say what you want about me, but I will not have you disrespect the death of someone who deserved all the dignity and respect in the world. Unlike you, Cedric would never work for the bad guy, not even if he got humiliated for it."

Draco growled. "What do you mean the bad guy, Potter? Are you just mad because your poor parents got what was coming to them? Anyways, you know that my parents-"

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Malfoy!" Potter yelled, startling the other couples in the room. "You know what? I know you didn't really hear what she said, but I don't have time to hear you speculate about our conversation just so you can continue to trigger me."

"Oh, so is she jealous because you have someone more important in your life?"

Potter froze. Then he gritted his teeth.

"Is it the Granger, perhaps? Hmm...I'd say her rage would be quite understandable in that case, you know, I wouldn't go near her. Not even if we were the last two people on earth and she looked-"

"No, Draco, but I guess you're still right either way!"

"Mr. Potter-" Madam Puddifoot stood up. How did she know his name? Never mind, he was THE Boy-Who-Lived after all...what besotted woman wouldn't notice him paying her?

"I guess I was just too concerned about my _boyfriend_ to really move on and start dating properly! Because he, like many of those other people close to me, was killed by a man that your family quite obviously worships!" With that, Draco barely had a moment to open his mouth before a handful of pink confetti, much to Madam Puddifoot's protests, was shoved into it and forcibly made to be swallowed. The next thing he knew, someone kicked him swiftly in the groin and pushed him over so he landed face flat on the floor. Someone, from an adjacent table perhaps, sent him a brief glance and decided to discreetly Bat-Bogey Hex him.

As he stood there, gasping and vomiting pink confetti, Draco wondered if maybe he should rethink his life decisions. And decided on no for the moment.

"You're going to fucking regret that, you know."

But yeah, if it meant he wouldn't have to hear the weird guilt-inducing voice for a while, he might just leave Potter alone until his conscience was sufficiently overpowered again.

* * *

 **Review if Cedric was probably hitting on Harry when he invited him to bathe in the Prefects' Bathroom.**

 **When writing this short story, I did not intend to state that Cedric and Harry were actually dating in this continuity, but to refer to Dudley's "Who's Cedric? Your boyfriend?" in Order of the Phoenix. However, you are welcome to imagine that was totally what he meant. I...I ship it. (Tears off Draco/Harry tag) This is a Hadric fanfiction now. No more Drarry.**


	10. Aftermath

Harry yawned and rolled over onto his back. Finally, Grimmauld Place was quiet.

"Harry!"

Scratch that. Quickly, he sat up in bed. Hermione and Ron were peeking through the doorway. Usually they promised nto to make any sudden sounds that would startle him, but now their faces looked anxious.

"What's going on?" Harry stood up, rushing over. "Are we under attack?" he asked, trying to be quiet.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied, "but...Neville and Hannah said they saw someone behind them as they were coming back, and they're not sure whether they might have accidentally let them into the Fidelius Charm."

Harry shook his head and groaned. He wanted to move. He would. He wasn't attached to Phineas Nigellus' portrait, or the ugly old tapestry with Draco's face on it, but...

"What about Luna and Ginny?" he asked urgently.

"They're in the kitchen, setting traps just in case," Hermione murmured. "I wanted to help, but they told me that Ron and I should be the ones to tell you."

"I am the master of this house. Why was I not alerted of this earlier?" Harry mumbled.

"Sorry," Ron mouthed. "Let's just go and see what we can do."

Just then, a loud crack of thunder sounded, as well as Ginny and Luna crying out. Harry screamed and made a mad dash for the front of the house, hollering " _Ginny! Luna!_ ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" He could hear Hermione's "Oh god, oh god-" and Ron's "Bloodyfuckshit" over their footsteps, and he immediately fired _Protego_ and _Stupefy!_

"Harry - wait, wait!" Neville's face appeared as he opened the door.

Harry skidded to a stop. Hermione and Ron bumped into him. "Answer me! What was the password you never forgot?"

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Neville replied, and Hannah's curly golden head appeared next to him. "Listen, calm down, it was just a-"

"STUPEFY!" Harry cried out, pointing his wand at the dark figure that crept up behind them. Hannah cried out and whoever it was ducked, and cast a Shield Charm.

"Wait, Harry, that's actually-"

A million things ran through Harry's mind now. A way to send the Death Eater, whoever it was (for surely, it was, he could hear the alarm spell that corresponded to Dark Marks ringing in his ears) as far away as possible, to Obliviate him into forgetting he had even seen Neville and Hannah's faces in the first place, and a protective spell that would save Ron and Hermione. Hell, even _Sectumsempra_ almost occurred to him.

But the command "stop" had no place when he was in autopilot mode.

"Harry, put your wand down, I swear it's fine!" Neville grabbed his brown arm and pulled him back. With a yelp, Harry shoved him off and took a step, pointing his wand at the Death Eater's throat and hissing " _You'll regret setting foot in my home_."

"Already do," a weary voice replied, and tired gray eyes bored into his own, almost asking for it. "This is what I get for visiting a relative's place."

Draco Malfoy.

Harry backed away two steps and fell down, too flabbergasted to say anything.

"Here," Draco looked at him with a dead look in his eyes. "Go ahead and curse me. You still have my wand. I'm not going to do anything." He held out his hands, just to show him. "I don't blame you after what my family and I have done. Go ahead, I won't be mad."

Just then he felt a hand softly patting him on the shoulder, and another one on the other side.

"There, there," Luna spoke soothingly, "we're sorry, we didn't mean to scare you when we yelled...we thought it was a real threat, too..."

"Yeah," Ginny muttered, "considering the fact we caught a former _Death Eater_." From the tone in her voice, Harry wasn't the only suspicious one.

Draco said nothing and stood in the doorway.

"He can only come in if you say he can," Neville spoke.

"Why would I let him in?" Harry demanded.

"Well, if you don't, I really wouldn't be surprised or disappointed," Draco replied tiredly. "But if you want, I'll swear an Unbreakable Oath to not touch a hair on anyone's heads. I'll shut up. I won't say anymore shit. Hell, I'd be grateful to just sit down and not do anything. But after what you've had to go through thanks to me, you have the absolute right to just stick me in your rubbish bin and say nothing."

Harry turned towards Ginny. She shook her head. She wasn't buying it.

Hermione furrowed her brow. She had a kind and forgiving heart, Harry knew, but she wasn't necessarily enamored with the idea.

Ron looked wearily from his sister to his girlfriend, then squinted at Draco and shook his head. Absolutely no idea how to respond.

"Look, maybe we could just give him something to eat and then send him on his way," Hannah suggested. Harry looked wearily at Neville, the boy who had been Body-Bound, then bullied and thrown around by Draco for several years. Why wasn't he more bitter about this? Bellatrix was Draco's aunt, too.

"Harry, you do what you feel is right," Neville spoke. Harry squinted at him. He had no idea what Neville's motivations or feelings on this were.

"Yes, do that," Hannah nodded fervently.

"We can return the hospitality from that one time his family accommodated us at the Manor," Luna remarked. Although she never seemed to betray utter anger, bitterness, fear, or hatred, the fact that she could say something like that so casually was somewhat disturbing. Luna Lovegood did have emotions, but she didn't necessarily spell them out loud when she felt resentment or dislike.

Harry stared into the blond man's eyes. Draco stared back, without the aggressiveness or superiority he once embodied. Whoever this person was, he had lost all delusions of grandeur and been brought down to reality harshly.

"First check that nobody is with him."

Ron silently obeyed. Nobody.

Harry stared more intently. "I want you to apologize."

Draco did not laugh. "For what?" he asked, with a tone that implied he really could not think of where to start.

"Everything you've done to my friends," Harry replied.

Draco looked down. For a second, Harry thought he wasn't going to comply, and gripped his wand ready to expel him far away. But he did look up.

"Granger," he muttered, "I will not seek to excuse my horrible behavior towards you for eight years. I cannot make up for the time that I spent belittling you and your friends, and treating you as less than human. I was wrong, and you deserve better than to get shit from assholes like me for being different."

Hermione said nothing, but Ron slowly put his arm around her and she leaned into his touch. He quietly rested his cheek against her bushy dark hair, holding her brown hand, and narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"Weasley," Draco swallowed hard. "I have been nothing but rude and a prat to you since the moment we first met. I could have tried to end our families' frayed relations, and I only made things worst. I have...tried to betray your friends and constantly harassed you, just because I was born into undeserved luxury and you were not. You have every right to dislike me and distance yourself from me."

"And Ginny?" Luna asked, her voice cool but rather firm.

Draco furrowed his brow, looking pained. "I forgot to mention. To both of you. I am sorry about your brother."

Ron and Ginny looked at each other, their eyes blank.

"There is nothing I can do to make up for the bright person he was to both of you. But..."

"That's enough, Malfoy," Ron muttered. Ginny closed her eyes and gripped her wand a little more tightly. Luna's cool white hand brushed gently against hers, and she took a step closer to her.

"Lovegood," Draco mumbled, his voice sounding hoarse, "I...you...you must have had a horrible time at my parents' home."

"Wherever there are jitterflies, things cannot grow too unpleasant," Luna replied coolly, though she neither seemed to forgive him nor condemn him. Draco winced. A more clear verdict would have been preferable.

"And my parents...?"

Neville's voice came out as a surprise to the rest. Harry glanced at him and could see his cheeks were red, a tear leaking out of one eye.

"I..." Draco swallowed once, twice, three times. "Your parents deserved better. They were brave people, so I heard...you too, you are just like them...you've stood up to stuff that I gave into immediately," he mumbled. "Stuff I never would have faced, hell..."

Neville cracked a broken grin. "Yeah, I guess your Body Bind curse prepared me for breaking Voldemort's," he muttered. Hannah stared, her mouth agape, but Neville refused to back down from the name of the man who threatened to give him death and was now proven a mortal. More tears continued to leak out of his eyes. He was not entirely fine with this, Harry could see, he had not been fine for several days...months...years...who knew. But maybe this small string he was tugging at, with one end tied to him and the other to Malfoy, maybe some good could come out of the stupid thing. Harry stared at the two men's faces. Perhaps Neville hoped for something. Some kind of closure. That forgiving Malfoy would make things better, would be a step above the dark waters, might give new strength and another side to life. Hannah clung onto him and buried her face in his chest and he smiled brokenly a little wider, opening his arms a little wider and clinging onto her too.

Unsettled by the silence, Harry waited for Draco to hurry up and finish, only to realize that he was staring intently at him.

"What?" he asked.

Draco looked down before looking at him in the eye again, biting his lips. "Potter..."

"Wait, what?" Harry looked around. Everyone was staring at them expectantly. He shook his head. "No, not me too..."

"Why not?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry shook his head angrily. "Not you...never you," he muttered.

Draco stared blankly at him. "Should I just leave, then? Was that a no?"

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "Harry..."

"No," Harry shook his head harder, "I refuse! I don't - I can't ever - not after all that," he growled.

Ron looked at him too. "Harry-"

"Bloody hell, you too Ron? Fuck! No, no, I am not! Let him leave, I don't want to hear it - you have _no_ idea-"

"Yes, you're right," Ginny spoke, "what we're trying to say is-"

"I know, I know! I'm not as kind and forgiving as you all, okay? I get it - I'm sorry, but I'm not what you see. I'm not that selfless. Fuck, I just don't want to hear it. It's not going to change anything. It won't fix anything-"

"Harry, you're really not alright, are you," Hermione spoke sadly.

"Mate, please, hear us out-" Ron muttered.

"I know! I know! I'm being a selfish asshole, okay? I get it! I'm not ready. I can't. I won't ever be," Harry yelled. Draco just stood there, not running away, or taking a step back, or trying to pull out a hidden wand and curse them. Just stod there watching, his eyes following each person's moving mouth. "But fuck, I can't just say it's over - after all that happened - I AM NOT OKAY, I CAN NOT JUST DROP THINGS. IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN."

"Harry," Hermione was leaving Ron's embrace and walking over to him. He was on his knees, covering his face in his hands, and his hands were hot and wet. Something salty trickled into his mouth and his glasses were blurry again.

"Harry." Firm, cool hands on his back. He looked up. Luna was crouched next to him, her long blonde hair draping over her shoulder. He stared blankly at her pierced ears. There were no funny radishes hanging from them. God, he missed them. Was not even Luna able to do kooky and weird stuff anymore? Was that just a product of their youth?

"You need to take a breath," Luna muttered, and waved a strange-looking dried vegetable in his face. Harry coughed and pushed her hand away. Never mind...now what dark alley did she get _that_ from? Not even Knockturn Alley was that sketchy.

"We're not telling you to do this because we think you're fine and have moved on beyond everything and you have to do this right now."

Harry frowned. "Oh, really?"

Luna waited a second to make sure he wasn't about to say more. "Yeah," she muttered.

Harry blinked.

"We know you're not okay. We can see it. You're not over everything. None of us are. And it's not a comfortable place either - you just want to crawl out of that dark hole and be over with it already, but you can't."

Harry looked down. Draco just stood there, and looked down too.

"But maybe this is that little step that will help you out of the hole. If you want to take it. You don't have to... we understand. But please, Harry...we're worried about you. Talk _with_ us. You haven't been fine for a while but you wouldn't admit it either and this is the most you've told us in days. Please, Harry. Tell us what you really need us to do."

Harry wanted to yell, but he bit his lip and looked up. Luna's eyes were boring into his, unmoving, and Neville was swallowing but standing firm, and Hannah was holding onto him securely like Ron had his hand holding up Hermione's back and Hermione curled her fists expectantly. And Ginny, Ginny stood tall and refused to back away, her eyes and hair alight with flame.

No one was ready.

No one was fine.

No one was over it.

He wasn't the only one.

And Harry looked down. He looked up at Draco, swallowing. Was this really okay? What if he wasn't really ready to say so? But then, when would he be? Maybe just saying so would be the first step to accepting things how they were.

"Do you have anything to say to me, Draco?" Harry asked.

Draco tried to look down at his feet, but faltered.

"I..."

The two men stared at each other for a few silent seconds.

"I'm sorry," Draco sputtered. "For everything."

And then he bent his neck and knelt down. Harry waited.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

The rest of the room seemed to hold its breath, but Harry continued to breathe, inhaling deeply and exhaling just as much. He watched as Draco stayed on his knees, his head hanging low, and his back slumped. No sign of movement.

Six seconds.

Seven seconds.

Eight seconds.

Nine seconds.

Ten seconds.

Eleven seconds...

"What the hell," Harry spat. "Let him in. Kreacher will be pleased, I'm sure."

Draco looked up.

"Surprised to see you come begging to me," Harry muttered. "This is the first time I've met you that you weren't acting like a bitter spurned lover."

Draco opened his mouth by reflex, and for a second, he looked as if he wanted to start up another spat. But he didn't. He closed his mouth and looked down.

"I suppose you would know best," he muttered, and bowed a second time.

Ron and Ginny did not miss that, and Harry looked down to avoid making eye contact with their searing side eyes. Draco wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself and took a few steps into the living room. He paused. Then he continued to take another step, and walked past Harry. Harry took a deep breath and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I'm going to bed now. I'm sorry, but if you get murdered in your sleep, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll keep an eye out," Ginny spoke fiercely, drawing her wand and cocking her head at Draco, who silently nodded back to show he heard her.

"Thanks Ginny, you're a real treasure."

"Isn't she joining you?" Draco crossed his arms, suddenly revealing his old disgruntled tone. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Draco, please apologize to Ginny again. And besides, I'm the only one in this house who sleeps alone in a cold, solitary bed. Unless you're volunteering to join me and share some warmth."

Draco opened his mouth, clearly indignant, and Ron laughed a sort of dry forced laugh. Ginny, too, stopped glaring momentarily at Draco and instead dropped her jaw because of the Boy-Who-Lived whom she used to idolize so much. Luna had absolutely no reaction, except for crossing her arms and tapping her chin thoughtfully, and Hermione's face showed nothing but confusion. Neville and Hannah looked mildly disturbed but were too polite to say anything either.

"Goodnight," Harry grunted, as he took the steps upstairs.

Before he went to sleep, he would set a few shield charms and traps. And, maybe he'd ask Kreacher to camp out behind the door. Although his guts still hurt and his stomach felt out of balance, somewhat grief-y and tired and non-closure-y, with grey swirling all about, he might have felt a little better. Maybe it was a placebo effect. But as he brushed his teeth one last time and smiled in the mirror, he thought of the look on Draco's face and laughed sharply. Oh, that was something to write home about.

* * *

 **Review if you wouldn't have minded the Deathly Hallows ending with Kreacher bringing Harry the best fucking sandwich in the entire world, Harry eating it, and then having a happy goddamn dream for just one fucking time.**

 **NEVER MIND IT IS NOW CANON.**

 **IN MY FANFIC AT LEAST.**

 **-Raven.**


	11. Hotcakes

When Harry got up at six, as usual, he walked out bed to make breakfast and yawned sleepily. He had not gotten much sleep, as usual, and so he usually decided to push himself out of bed around six when the light filtered in through the windows.

As he passed a room, however, he heard voices whispering to each other. Unusual.

"D'you think Neville's trying too hard to be nice - I mean, I don't think it's bad that he's trying to forgive Malfoy. I'm just saying, maybe he's putting a little too much on himself...and I mean, you too, he was an awful person to you...are you sure this is okay?"

Harry paused. That was Ron talking.

"I don't know," Hermione's tired voice replied. "I don't regret trying to make peace with him. I just hope Harry didn't really force himself last night...maybe I shouldn't have said that...maybe it's a bit _much_ to offer to let him stay with us."

"Yeah...that's what I'm saying. Are you sure you're fine with that prat staying under the same roof as you, under Harry's hospitality?"

"Ron, I don't know. We know what it's like to be without a home...I wouldn't blame Neville for leaving him out in the cold, but I personally don't want to deal with that right now," Hermione replied tiredly. "I'll find him a place where we can send him to without feeling bad about it, how about that?"

"Can I help?"

"Sure," Hermione sighed.

Harry frowned and rubbed his head. Usually he was the only one awake at this time, except for days when Ginny secretly sneaked into the ktichen to ask Kreacher for a snack or Hermione tried to cook breakfast as a repayment for letting them stay.

And now he remembered Malfoy.

Great. Harry groaned.

"Harry? Are you out there?" Hermione called. "Did you want to talk to us, too?"

Harry sighed. Caught in the act. He opened the door and found them sitting on the edge of a bed.

"Are you feeling okay? Did you just say yes because I was telling you to?' Hermione asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Harry replied sullenly. "I'm tired of fighting with Malfoy, however, and clearly he feels the same way. So if I can cross off one of the names on my "potential enemies from war" list, then I'll be much happier, yes."

"I see...well, you don't have to house him. We'll try to find a different place for him to stay at," Hermione spoke.

"Sounds nice," Harry replied tersely. "Maybe you can give him our old tent."

"Oh," Hermione muttered. "Well, maybe I-"

"I'm joking," Harry replied quietly. "He'd probably come back looking for vengeance."

"I'd hope not," Ron grunted, "that'd mean the whole "new person, new attitude" thing was bull."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, looking around the room absentmindedly. He was staying in the house of the pureblood Black family, a family of notorious Muggleborn-haters. Sirius must have hated this house as much as Privet Drive. But, somehow, he seemed to have made amends with it years later, enough to organize the Order of the Phoenix here.

"Maybe a motel, or some place else," Hermione muttered. "Are you going to give him his wand back?"

Harry sighed. "I might let him stay in my shelter, but I'm not sure whether I should give him his magic back. Just so you know."

"Oh, okay," Hermione replied, but she looked relieved that he had said no. "I'm glad you do have some boundaries set up."

Harry almost laughed mirthlessly, but he didn't want to worry them. "Yeah," he muttered dully, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Probably would do him some good, learning to live without magic like a Squib and earn some respect for Muggles who survive without it," Ron remarked, and Hermione smiled appreciatively, hugging him around the waist.

"Yeah, I guess I'll just put it somewhere safe," Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"How about we make breakfast today, mate?" Ron suggested.

"You? You want to make breakfast?" Harry frowned. "Kreacher and I handle it just fine-"

"It's been a hard morning for everyone," Ron muttered. "Malfoy may have turned his nose down at us Weasleys, but at least he hasn't given me as much bull as he has to you guys. Poor Hannah, too...I mean, he's said some pretty nasty stuff about Hufflepuffs too."

"How kind of you," Hermione murmured, lightly poking him in the stomach. Ron chuckled. "So, can I help you make that breakfast?"

"Sure," Ron replied, looking pleased.

"Then, can I-"

"Oh Harry, why don't you just sit down and watch us try and do you a favor?"

"As you know, I don't sleep," Harry crossed him arms, and Hermione looked sort of guilty. He felt sort of bad. "Well, it's just that I need something to occupy myself and y'know, breakfast works sometimes."

"Alright," Hermione breathed in, "no reason you shouldn't cook with us, then. But please let us handle the troublesome stuff."

"Alright," Harry laughed.

* * *

"So," Ron spoke and shoved down a mouthful of hotcakes drenched in treacle syrup, "success?"

"Yes, my hotcakes are only slightly burnt," Hermione remarked, delicately turning hers over with a fork to reveal a telltale brown griddle mark.

"I can eat yours too, if you don't want 'em," Ron replied.

"Yes, you certainly could," Hermione replied, reaching for the jar of honey now that Harry had finished adding some to his tea. She then dripped some lemon juice and sugar onto her plate, and cleared her throat. "What do you think of our teamwork, Harry?"

"Wonderful, as always," Harry tried his best to crack a convincing grin. Hermione rolled her eyes knowingly and Ron brightened. "Would you like some more coffee, Malfoy? You must be rather thirsty," he spoke, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"What?" The sullen blond suddenly looked up and stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "Oh, yes, coffee would be appreciated...Potter," he grunted, not looking up to meet his eye anymore. Harry tried his best to shrug it off and firmly grasped the coffee pot. Malfoy watched the dark liquid pool up in the bottom of the cup and rise until it nearly was spilling out. "That'll do," he spoke brusquely, and Harry obliged.

Ron raised and eyebrow and looked at Hermione, who took a deep breath and looked at Harry.

"Great. I suppose Kreacher will give me a lecture later on not wasting his precious mistress' favorite Dark Kenyan Roast," Harry tried to crack another smile. Malfoy blinked and awkwardly tried to smile back. They must have looked something awful, with the corners of their mouths painfully turned upwards in obviously fake ways.

"Sorry, I spaced out," Malfoy grunted through his gritted teeth. "Is this really..."

"Mrs. Black's? Ah, I don't really know. Just found it in one of the cabinets here and started using it, then Kreacher started giving me the side eye. Or maybe he just doesn't approve of how infrequently I iron my blue shirt. Or maybe he's just trying to hint that I should wear said shirt more often," Harry tried to laugh.

"Ah," Malfoy replied, then bit his lip and grabbed the coffee mug, scooching it closer to him and surping out of it rather loudly. Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows somewhat disapprovingly while Harry looked around awkwardly. After a few minutes of this, he put it down and muttered thanks, then stood up and walked away.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ron called, his voice normal but his face somewhat concerned.

"To the loo," Malfoy replied, "just for a quick...freshening up. That's all."

"I see," Ron replied. "Well, don't take too long and don't use any of the pomade. It's all expired, and it'll dye your hair bright green."

"Noted," Malfoy replied darkly and sulked off.

Harry gulped and turned back around to stare at his friends.

"Pleasant breakfast buddy, alright," Ron grunted sarcastically.

"Wow, and you accuse me of being snappish in the morning?" Hermione crossed her arms.

"Let's just be glad he hasn't called any of us anything insulting," Ron muttered.

Just then, they heard loud traipsing down the stairs, and Ginny appeared, rubbing her eyes and wearing an oversized Holyhead Harpies jersey.

"Hotcakes?" Ginny murmured.

"Ooh, cow patties!" Luna's voice squealed, and she appeared next to Ginny in her airy baby-blue nightgown adorned with cornflower-colored buttons. Quickly enough, the two of them served themselves with plates of hotcakes and rummaged around. Ginny ate hers with a good amount of butter and downed a large cup of black coffee. Luna hummed a little ditty to herself as she poured treacle syrup and fresh berries onto hers, along with a few dollops of clotted cream and jam.

"They don't seem to mind them being a little toasted, huh?" Ron nudged Hermione.

"You mean _burnt_ ," Hermione corrected. "Anyways... _cow patties?_ " she stared in disbelief at Luna.

"Mhm," Luna replied coolly. "That's what my mum called 'em."

"I see," Hermione replied, her face an utter picture of disgust. "Luna, do you even _know_ what cow patties..."

"Breakfast ready?" Neville spoke, poking his head around the banister.

"Yes, Neville, do come down," Hermione smiled courteously and gestured at the diminished pile of food. Hannah yawned and reached for the other lemon half, then made several grimaces as she tried to extract some last drops of juice from it.

"These taste a little burnt," Neville frowned as he reached for more sugar.

"Oi, don't be greedy. That's from Smith's Confectionery, and it cost us a pretty pony!" Ron scolded.

"Penny," Hermione stood up and tapped him on the nose as she went to wash the dishes.

"Penny, whatever," Ron crossed his arms. "And besides, it's just nicely toasted, that's all. Toasted."

"Hermione, I can do the dishes," Harry stood up.

"Very well then."

As Harry reached for his wand and muttered a quick spell, Hermione leaned in and muttered "Malfoy's taking a long time in the bathroom, isn't he?"

"I suppose so," Harry replied, trying his best not to repeat last time's enormous soap bubble disaster.

"We should probably go check up on him," she muttered. "Ron may be rubbing off on me, but I don't think he's just primping."

"If you say so," Harry muttered, finishing with a quick _Aguamenti_ and leaving the dishes to dry on their own. Hermione nodded quickly at Ron and he nodded back understandingly, standing up and walking towards them. Ginny caught his eye as he stood up and tagged along, a fire in her eyes. Luna noticed Ginny standing up and brushed her skirt off before joining them.

"Are you guys going somewhere?" Neville asked.

"Just...to check up on Draco," Harry replied.

"Let me come along," Neville made to stand up, too, but Hannah looked weary and as if she would rather stay seated, so he decided to finish breakfast with her.

"It'll be fine," Harry nodded, trying to sound reassuring.

With that, Harry walked up to the bathroom and knocked on the door firmly. "Draco? Are you in there? Just wanted to...uh, ask. I...er, would like to brush my teeth in a bit, if that's cool with you."

"Not urgent enough," Hermione mouthed silently.

"I-I mean, I drank a lot of tea and any chap with a head on his shoulders knows the wonders of caffeine and its effects on a bladder," Harry sputtered. "So if you're not using the loo yourself, I would like too...sooner than later."

No response.

"Draco?" Harry knocked again. Louder. "Draco?" More knocks. More silence.

Harry turned towards them. "Any way we can verify he's just not...too embarrassed to answer back?"

"Only one," Hermione replied, drawing out her wand.

"Wait! Let me try one last time. Draco? If you're in there, please just yell loudly or kick the door or make some noise."

Nothing but utter silence.

 _"Alohomora!_ " Hermione hissed.

Gingerly, Harry swung open the door.

The blond man was passed out in fetal position on the floor, even paler than ever and not breathing.

"What do we do? We can't make him swallow a bezoar if he's unconscious," Harry spoke, not sure if he was in shock or used to seeing desperation or too shocked to react properly with shock.

Hermione opened her mouth and no sound came out. Ron's face was a picture of conflicted feelings. Ginny and Luna were entirely unreadable.

"I, I could take him to Saint Mungo's, if they'd let him in. Let's search the rubbish bin for an empty vial."

Harry fumbled around as he spoke, putting his hand on wherever Draco's heart should be and where he should have been breathing out.

"Accio vial! Nope, that's Hermione's moisturizer. Accio! Ah, here it is," he held it up to the light. "Quick, find out what's in here," he waved it in Hermione's face, but she wouldn't make a move, not even to grab it. Strange, he had eaten a hotcake earlier, and yet his stomach felt so empty. "Please, Hermione," it felt almost like when Dobby died. He suddenly had a vision of Dobby in his arms, looking like a sleeping child. How long had it been since he slept?

"Harry," Ron grabbed his shoulders, "are you-"

"I'm fine, fine, just check on him," Harry replied. "I'm just fine." Ron's face blurred and swam with Hermiones, and now everyone's faces were turning into one strange vision. And then he had the impression that he was falling, going into a long dark tunnel as if Apparating, as the oxygen left his lungs and he closed his eyes and collapsed onto Draco's side.

* * *

 **Review if you think someone should tell Luna that cow patties and patty cake and pancakes are not the same things.**


	12. Figments

The first sensation that brought Harry back into consciousness was something soft being lain carefully on him. He stirred for a few seconds then went back to sleep, though in the back of his dulled mind, something was still bothering him. But he simply rolled over, relishing the softness surrounding him, and let it continue for a while longer. In the back of his mind, he could hear the voices arguing, arguing. The old gray man retorted angrily and, once in a while, would turn towards him and lie his frail hand on Harry as if trying to make sure he would stay there. The hulking, dark man with lanky hair shouted and crossed his arms, and a fairy flitted back and forth, shapeshifting into a nymph and a creature with a lamp...no, a hinkypunk, Lupin had taught him what those were...

"Go away, stop talking," Harry murmured, even though he knew Ron and Hermione weren't really chatting next to him and sitting on top of his bed, but the illusions in his brain kept on going anyways. In Ginny walked, holding a baby with red hair and green eyes...What was that supposed to mean? And Luna was floating, floating in the air next to his bed, rocking another blond baby to sleep, humming softly. Harry rolled over and murmured " _Expecto Patronum_ " wearily, hoping the mere words would conjure a happy memory for him. One of Sirius? No... Too painful. The last time he saw Sirius, brought to him by the Resurrection Stone? It had been closure, sure, but not necessarily joy. He tried harder, thinking of the time Cho said yes to a date, and that afternoon where he sat with Ron and Hermione warming their hands over Hermione's jar of fire, but that seemed so far away and innocent...even if he still had Ron and Hermione, the experience felt outdated, too nostalgic to feel real, and his hand dropped in defeat.

The figments continued on, growing wilder and turning into new shapes. But then the blond man sat down, and started caressing his hair softly and muttering something quiet. And the other ones, Ron and Hermione looked up, and dissolved. Ginny, too, she held her baby closer and covered its face protectively, but Luna just smiled mysteriously...her hair covered in a thin white cloth...and pressed her cool white hands on the blond man's forehead. Then the blond man smiled and continued to stroke Harry's hair gently, not saying a word.

And all the figments and visions went to sleep as Harry drifted into a quiet darkness that stretched onward peacefully, his chest somehow warm.

When he did come to a second time, the figments and visions were gone. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. His legs were too hot - he slowly lifted the coverlet, mourning the loss of its soft embrace, but he felt as if he had slept too long. His room was completely dark, no sunlight filtered in through the window in front of him. He looked around, for some reason, wondering if Draco might be nearby...lying on the floor or at the door, trying to silently slip away.

No. No one. He smiled mirthlessly - yes, it had all been an illusion of his mind.

A faint sting pricked him his arm. Wait. What if Draco was dead, and the figment he had seen...was really a ghost? Or, a premonition of death?

Harry ran over to the door and opened it. The lights were all out - likely, everyone else had gone to sleep. He shook his head frantically and dashed down the dark stairs. Suddenly, his foot slipped, and with a cry of fear, he felt his feet go out from underneath him and fell down. His ankles knocked against the stairs and he landed on his elbows, scraping the skin from them. His hip seared with pain and his wrist now dripped a little blood, but he only wanted to scramble to his feet and fix his glasses and leave.

Sounds of footsteps. Someone turned a light in the kitchen on.

"Harry?" Hermione spoke, her hair wrapped in a scarf. "I thought you were another Death Eater! Are you alright? You really must have bunged up your tibia-"

"It's fine," Harry replied, rubbing the place where a black and blue mottled bruise would form later. "Where's Draco?"

"St. Mungo's," Hermione replied. "You don't have to worry about him anymore, Harry. They'll take good care of him, I made sure of that, and then when he recovers he can go find a new place to stay. Likely, a relative will come for him or they'll find a place."

Harry looked up at her for a second and stopped.

"How was he last you saw him?"

His words were confusing, but Hermione understood.

"They put him in a medically-induced coma."

"A coma?" Harry hissed. "What does that mean?" He turned around, cursing and searching for the glasses he had just noticed were not on his face. There they were, lying on the bottom of the stupid stairs. He picked them up and jabbed them back on. "Stupid. Bad, of course," he mumbled to himself.

"To prevent brain damage," Hermione explained, but full comprehension also eluded her.

"Weren't you supposed to be the Healer?" Harry asked.

"Yes," she crossed her arms, "but I'm still learning, too. But they do have the vial, so hopefully they can find an antidote."

"Can we go visit him tomorrow?" Harry asked quietly.

"Hm? Oh, sure," Hermione replied. "Here, let me get at your bruises-"

"They're fine, Hermione-"

" _Episkey! Episkey! Epi-_ "

"Good Merlin, Hermione."

* * *

"Are you _relatives_ of Mr. Malfoy?" The witch glared at them. She knew very well who she was talking to, and that they were no closer to being Draco's cousins than Celestina Warbeck was to a Grammy.

"My friend and I were the ones who brought him here," Hermione replied. "Look at the records."

"I don't see your names-"

"Right here," Hermione hissed and pointed, and the witch glared at her, but once she looked down her eyes nearly bugged out. "See?" Hermione asked triumphantly.

Harry rolled his eyes. And now Hermione knew more about the paperwork at St. Mungo's than, well, the welcoming witch.

"Ah, yes, of course," the witch replied disgruntled. "Clearly you know which room, as well?"

"Yes, we just thought we should register before going," Hermione smiled brightly. With that, she firmly grabbed Harry's arm and led him away. "Third Floor, Potions and Plant Poisoning...come _on!_ "

"Great, we'll be in the papers tomorrow," Harry muttered, somewhat relieved to be in a place where the Mediwizards were too busy to stare at him.

"if she wishes to admit that she doesn't know how to do her own job, sure," Hermione replied huffily. "Besides, I have Rita Skeeter on watch."

"What?" Harry blinked. "You mean, you're censoring her?"

"No, I just made an agreement with her to leave us alone. At least, she's not getting anything," Hermione smirked mischievously. "Alright, it's this one."

She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds. Just before she could lift her arm once more, Harry rapped it himself impatiently.

"Excuse me, are you two here to see someone?" A Mediwitch asked politely and walked over, her mouth covered by a white sterile mask.

"Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy in Room 217," Hermione replied.

"He was moved to another room," the Mediwitch replied. "May I ask, are you his relatives?" she asked cautiously. Hermione and Harry looked at each other's brown skin and shook their heads firmly.

"No. But _he's_ adopted," Hermione smiled, grabbing Harry's arm and tugging him closer. Her tone clearly referred not to the Dursleys, but to the family that they had formed over the years...Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Hannah. Everyone.

"I see," the Mediwitch replied. "Are you...acquaintances of him?"

"Yes. Classmates. Draco was staying over at my place for a while, but we found him...in the bathroom, unconscious, so we rushed him over," Harry spoke quietly, rubbing his glasses.

"Oh. Mr Malfoy is very lucky to have friends like you," the Mediwitch blinked.

"I suppose."

"Can you take us there?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," the Mediwitch replied. "Please follow me." With that, they brushed themselves off and tagged along.

* * *

"So what was the diagnosis?"

"Draught of Living Death," the Mediwitch replied simply.

"Oh," Harry replied.

"Many former Death Eaters who we admitted had a small vial of it," the Mediwitch muttered. "Just in case they needed to "kill" themselves. Then someone would wake them up when it was all over and bust them out of their graves. It's a very trite technique...apparently Muggles got wind of it and started calling them "dead dingers." Maybe you've heard of it."

Hermione and Harry just nodded. Harry knew she was resisting the urge to correct the witch and say it was "dead _ringers_."

"Not that Muggles didn't already know about it," the Mediwitch added. "You know, the tale of Sleeping Beauty was based around it when people were falling into comas but people had no idea why. Then they got a slight idea, and then that man Shakespeare added it as an element into one his plays..."

"I wonder why he didn't just use the Killing Curse," Hermione murmured.

"I still have his wand," Harry replied quietly.

"Oh, right," Hermione murmured.

"Let me just check with the other Mediwizards," the Mediwitch spoke, walking over. After a few seconds, she came back and nodded, pulling aside the curtain.

A lump in his throat, Harry approached the bed.

"Is he okay?" he asked. Draco looked deathly pale, but his face was utterly peaceful. His hands rested on his chest, and he lay on the pillow without making a sound.

"Yes. It seems as if he ingested more than just his vial...maybe some medicine or another poison, potentially. We're still trying to find out what it was, but he's stable in this condition for now."

"I see," Harry replied quietly. For a second, he wanted to reach out and touch the soft pale hair that covered Draco's closed eyes, but he stopped himself.

"Unfortunately, that's all the time we can afford for today. Visiting hours are soon going to be over," the Mediwitch spoke. "You can come see him tomorrow."

"Oh...okay," Hermione frowned. The Mediwitch nodded and made a secret sign to the other Mediwizards, who picked up their instruments and walked closer to the cot. "Are you sure? We only just arrived."

"Yes," the Mediwitch replied. "He'll be fine. Just fine."

* * *

 **Review if you're still a little curious as to how ole Gilderoy Lockhart is doing these days.**

 **Or if you think Dumbledore hired him for the sole purpose of ensuring that this stupidly vain would meet a horrible DADA teacher-worthy fate.**


	13. Remnants

"So everything's going to be alright, then," Ginny muttered.

"Yup," Harry sighed, taking a deeper sip of his tea. "By the way, what happened...when I was out? I just remember waking up in the middle of the night."

"Well," Ginny set down her mug and scooched in her chair, "Hermione and Ron rushed Malfoy off to the hospital, and Luna and I carried you back to your bed."

"Oh, did you really? I should thank you, my true princes in shining armor," Harry grinned.

"Ha, ha, very funny. Actually, we just opted for Wingardium Leviosa," Ginny replied, crossing her arms.

Harry winced. "Well, thank you for not dropping me, I suppose." Ginny only grinned back in response.

"Harry, you are going to bed after this last cup, right?" Hannah crossed her arms. "Or are you using the bathroom after me?"

"You can go first, Hannah," Harry replied, looking up with surprise. Hannah usually kept herself and didn't get along with him that much - he usually attributed it to her not being impressed with him, but perhaps this was just how Hannah was.

"Alright," she replied, and turned to go to the bathroom. Ginny leaned in.

"She's calling you by your first name, huh?"

"I had no idea we were on first name basis," Harry replied, although it felt strange to use the term "we", even though Neville and Hannah had been living in Grimmauld Place long enough for him to acknowledge her presence several times. "I always thought Hannah didn't like me, or something like that."

"Hm, I think that's just how she is. Kinda like Hermione...we didn't click immediately, just kinda brushed by politely at first, but she can be nice sometimes," Ginny replied. "Still a bit more awkward around Luna than most other people, though, but Neville likes her well enough."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry replied, looking down at his coffee.

"Anything on your mind?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," Harry lied, still going over the strange figments he'd created in his dream. For some reason, the thought of that vision of Malfoy touching his hair made his spine tingle every time.

"You aren't...having those nightmares again, are you?" Ginny asked concernedly.

"No, no," Harry shook his head, "but I did...um, have an unusual dream last night. Kept on thinking that you and Ron and Hermione and Luna were in there with me, but I knew I was sleeping by myself, and..."

"Ah," Ginny blinked. "Well, Ron and Hermione got home really late after taking Malfoy to the hospital, so they went pretty much straight to bed. Until you woke up Hermione and, I quote, gave her a heart attack that nearly "scared my hair straight.""

Harry grinned sheepishly.

"Luna and I were pretty tired, though, so we slept like rocks last night. And Neville and Hannah felt bad that they didn't come to check up on Draco, so Hannah offered for them to go and stay up checking up on Draco, so they left and then Ron and Hermione went to bed."

"Ah. So no one...came upstairs to my room?"

"Nope," Ginny replied. "Well, maybe Kreacher, to give you a good night kiss," she grinned.

"Oh, darn you," Harry replied, playfully waving his spoon at her.

"Hey, don't you dare hit my sister - you know she hits back!" Ron yelled.

"He knows!" Ginny hollered. Luna passed them, her wet hair wrapped up in a fluffy pink towel, and patted Ginny on the back as she brushed her teeth idly.

"So it definitely was a dream," Harry muttered, looking down at his coffee.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Harry replied. "I'm just gonna, um, go brush my teeth now."

"Oh. Alright," Ginny replied, looking at him quizzically as he stood up and went to wash his mug. Having finished that, he then clambered upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. Hannah emerged a few seconds afterwards and walked past him wordlessly. He then entered the bathroom and reached for his toothbrush.

"Hey, Scarhead," a voice spoke. Harry said nothing and rummaged around in the right drawer, trying to find the tube of toothpaste among the various moisturizers, hair rollers, eye drops and hairpins. "Hey. Hey you," the voice continued, "you're not going to ignore me again, are you?"

Harry sighed. Ron had already given up on brushing his teeth in this bathroom, and from the look of it, so had Luna. The mirror that talked back at you was a little annoying, after all.

"Come on, you can't ignore me. Go on...I know you wanna talk to me. It's the truth, right? Say it is," Harry's reflection grinned at him. "Just ask me any question, and I'll know the answer. Here's one I know well; who's the fairest in the entire land? Go on. Ask me."

Harry said nothing. The first time he had used this bathroom and wondered why it had no toilet or shower, just a sink, his own reflection had hit on him while trying to brush his hair and he'd jumped a foot in the air.

"About time you got to suffer through it," Neville had remarked dryly, and Ron laughed sharply.

The girls didn't seem to mind it for the most part, however. Luna claimed that it was because the mirror contained a magical cretaure that was actually female, and therefore it favored them. She called it an "angel." Hermione had turned up her nose at this and called it a "phantom." Whatever it was, it simply annoyed the hell out of Harry.

"Just remember to never, ever, ever play Bloody Mary with it. It will transform into an angry woman wearing white, or something else of that nature, then jump out and scream at you," Hermione warned. "Then it'll like, try to drag you into its world and steal your face for itself, and then walk out wearing your skin...while you remain, forever trapped in the looking glass, trying to find someone to replace you."

"I have literally no desire to do that," Harry muttered.

"Oh, and by the way...if it starts offering you operatic voice lessons and wearing a white mask, smash it," Hermione advised. "Well, actually that might exacerbate it. Just call the Ministry of Magic." She frowned. "I don't know if it has a Permanent Sticking Charm, but if it does, whoever put one on it must have been pure unadulterated evil."

Ron was hence banned from singing in the bathroom and thus resorted to using the much further-away one.

"Come on. Ask me a question. Just one question, please. I'm so lonely! I've been stuck in this stupid mirror for so long, trapped by an evil enchanter...I have no idea how my family's doing...the others won't listen to me, but surely you, you'd be able to free me, and then we could leave this place together," the Creature in the Mirror begged Harry. "I was once a young, beautiful woman...and then, one day..."

Hermione barged in and reached for her "petroleum jelly", as Ron called it, then started slathering some onto her cheeks. "Pay it no attention," she huffed, "it's just trying to manipulate you."

"Spoilsport," the reflection of Hermione whined.

"Is it the same creature replicating both of our reflections, or does it have a sister?" Harry did wonder.

"I do not know if has an assigned sex," Hermione replied, glaring at the mirror, "but perhaps you should ask it that question."

"I am whatever you prefer," the creature cooed, "but I am all, and none, at the same time."

"Wonderful," Hermione replied tiredly, squinting and looking at her reflection's chin. "Ugh. The humidity is so horrid...I can't believe just how dry it's been making me."

"Yes, but you still have a few pimples you should pop soon, girl," her reflection replied. Hermione dropped her jaw indignantly and stomped out.

"Such an easily offended creature," Harry's reflection muttered, propping its chin on its elbow.

"You know what, I think I've come up with a name for you," Harry muttered.

"Oh, really? Like what?" the mirror cooed.

"You're an Afterimage...I should write a letter to Newt Scamander about you," Harry replied. The reflection smiled at him, flattered. "Is it true that you can take up any form?"

"Any form I've ever copied, yes," the Afterimage smiled invitingly. "Why, is there a loved one you would like me to show you?"

At first, Sirius' face came to mind, but Harry clenched his toothbrush. No, Sirius would be too painful to look at. And all of the other Black family members...well, maybe Kreacher might like to see Regulus, but the rest of them seemed horrible.

"I don't know. Can you show me something embarrassing of Ron?"

"Gladly," the Afterimage replied, and suddenly it morphed into a redhead hacking and spitting toothpaste everywhere, only clad in salmon boxers. Harry snickered.

"Did you ever have an original appearance?" Harry asked.

"Why yes. I was once a beautiful young damsel...with apples in my cheeks, and long hair tied up with ribbons, and bonny blue eyes. But one day, this wicked, wicked witch..."

Hermione rapped at the door again and reappeared, reaching for her spot treatment acne medication. "No use fraternizing with it. It might as well be a Horcrux, there's no doubt that this is dark magic," she growled.

"Right," Harry muttered. "Just, uh, chatting. I promise I haven't given away any personal information."

"Yes, well, Ginny says her parents have a certain saying about not trusting things that seem to think on their own but hide their brains."

"Right, yeah," Harry muttered. Maybe at breakfast tomorrow, he'd bring it up to Ron and Neville and ask them if he could send a Ministry official to take a look at it. "I'll be out in a sec."

"If you don't come back, I'll come in here and drag you out forcefully," Hermione replied. "And don't you try to ensnare him in any of your traps," she shook a finger menacingly at the Afterimage. Her reflection did not respond, but stuck its tongue at her when she turned around to leave.

"Anyways," the Afterimage said in a bored tone, "any other requests?"

Normally Harry would have asked it to show him Ron again, but for some reason, Draco kept on surfacing in his mind.

"No. I'm good."

"Oh, yes, you're _real_ good all right," the Afterimage remarked. " _Look_ at my butt...I mean, _your_ butt...but seriously...if you would be so kind as to free me, maybe we could..."

Having had enough, Harry leaned down to rinse and spit. This was where he drew the line.

"Wait! Don't leave me. Oh, please, I promise I won't hurt you...I just, maybe we could switch places? Pretty please? For just a _few_ seconds...no more, and then I'd go right back in! And then I could show you my world...the beauty, and horror of it..."

"Good night," Harry replied briskly, and left.

Finally clambering into his bed, Harry yawned and covered himself with the blanket. He was looking forward to a good night of sleep. He needed it.

Having closed his eyes, Harry then rolled over and nestled his face into the softer crevices of his pillow, only to find himself face to face with a blond-haired man.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

Harry sat up, screamed, and promptly fell off of the bed.

* * *

 **Review if you think I had a little too much fun writing about the Afterimage which, by the way, did not receive a lot of emphasis for any real reason. Does it serve a plot point? No. Will I remember it? Probably not. Eh.**

 **-Raven**


	14. Spectral Vision

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanding, fumbling around for his wand and pointing it at the spectral vision in front of him.

"Hey - hey, wait, stop!" Draco commanded, waving his hands in front of him. "I-"

"Stupefy!" Harry cried.

The red light shot right through Draco's chest, bounced off the wall, and shot back at Harry, who barely ducked in time. Instead, it hit the lamp on the nightstand and broke it to pieces.

"I am...so sorry about your lamp," Draco stuttered.

Harry shook his head. "Draco Malfoy, why the fuck are you hovering around my bed like some...some _ghost?_ "

"I-I-" The blond man swallowed. "Is that my name?"

"What the hell do you mean, is that your nam? Don't tell me you've...ooooh fuck," Harry gasped.

Draco blinked. "Is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head, swallowing and starting to pce around the room rapidly. "Oh, no. They said they put you in a coma...that can't possibly mean...are you some sort of ghost?"

Draco just stared at him.

"And why are you here? Out of all places? Shouldn't you be haunting, I don't know, the Malfoy Manor or Azkaban or some dark graveyard with sinister ambiance?"

Draco blinked.

"Oh, fuck it!" Harry glared, muttering a quick _Reparo_. "What are you doing here in my room on my bed, then?"

"Um..."

"Nothing to say, huh?"

Draco closed his mouth.

"I knew it," Harry turned around. "Now, I'll have to go call an exorcist...or Hermione...well, everyone just went to bed, they're not going to want to deal with this..."

"I can't move," Draco finished.

Harry turned around. "What?"

"I can't move from here. I can't walk away or anything. I don't know why, but I'm stuck to this spot."

Harry groaned.

"I'm not lying...watch," Draco sat up and took one step. Afterwards, his body seemed to be moving in slow motion through water, incapable of going any further. Harry shook his head. "I can't move a foot from here."

"This must be some sick joke," Harry shook his head. "What are you doing, so far away from your body? Did you have some message to relay to me?"

"I..." Draco blinked, looking confused. "Maybe? I don't remember...what happened to me exactly?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. My mind's really fuzzy and I still have no idea what happened."

Harry shook his head. "Then you are not ready. Stay there - I'll go fetch Hermione."

* * *

"You really can't catch a break," Ron gaped.

"I don't want to hear that from you," Harry muttered darkly. Ron rolled his eyes and smacked his shoulder lightly. Hermione shook her head.

"You're telling me that the same Draco Malfoy who may have attempted suicide and is now in a medically induced coma just showed up on your bed."

"Yes."

Hermione closed her mouth. "Well that is just...hmmmmh..."

"Wait, why the 'hmmh'?"

"Why is he haunting your bedside specifically? Did he have...unfinished business to do there?"

Harry felt his face go up in flames.

"Hermione, no," he shook his head vigorously. "No no no no no-"

Ron stared at his girlfriend for a full ten seconds, his expression unmoving and horrified from inside out, asking _What other terrible people are you going to accuse my best mate of hooking up with? Umbridge?_

"I'm sorry, you know I act like a drunk when I'm sleepy," Hermione yawned apathetically.

"No, you don't. Drunk Hermione patronizingly explained to me the Periodical Table of Elephants and some crazy Arithmancy rune over nine times last week."

"Well clearly I should have explained it again. It's the Table of Elements, Ronald," Hermione replied, crossing her arms and cocking her head.

"Ok, besides that point," Harry cleared his throat, "why is Malfoy's ghost haunting me and what does this mean regarding his physical body? Did...did St. Mungo's kill him?"

Rom just raised an eyebrow calmly, but Hermione looked a litte disturbed. "That Mediwitch was kind of suspicious. Maybe we should investigate what's going on..."

"Yes. At any rate, do either of you have any idea for what to do with the friendly ghost on my bed?"

"Ooh, there's a ghost on Harry's bed? Is it Cho Chang's?" Giny stuck her head through the doorway.

"We're pretty sure it isn't...and thanks, but that was unnecessary, _Ginevra_ ," Harry stuck out his tongue. She smirked and stuck hers right back out at him.

"Oh, ghost problems? I can take care of that," Luna piped up. She looked a little tired, but her heart beet charm jewelry was cute.

"Can you? Could you, please?" Harry begged as Hermione sighed doubtfully and rubbed her temples.

"Mhm. I'll go fetch my materials," Luna declared, and ran off.

Neville walked in and groaned. "So, what's going on? You all look very conspiratorial."

"Neville!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed.

"Just got back from the hospital...Hannah's tired so she's napping on the couch with Crookshanks. Er, well, she had to relinquish some pillow to him, but that's outside of the point...Healers said Malfoy is doing fine, planning on injecting some new fancy serum to counteract the Draught-"

"Oh. Maybe that serum is like, lethal stuff we should um, totally prevent because Malfoy's death would be unfortunate," Ron spoke woodenly.

Neville blunked. "Blimey...really? They walked me through the ingredients and they seemed alright, but then again, it was more of Potions thing and less Herbology..."

"No time to lose. You Floo to St. Mungo's and demand that they explain it to you again - if Draco's still not completely dead, maybe it's more of a side effect from strange treatment...I've heard of these before. Us Muggles call them astral projections," Hermione explained. "Parts of the soul or spirit or consciousness, whatever, leave the body."

"You believe in that?" Ron asked, incredulous. "And you still hate Divination?"

"I believe there is a deeper explanation to it that we're not seeing, that's all." Hermione rolled her eyes, shoving Neville into the fireplace. "Now go, go, go!"

"Oh. No, really, it's fine...take your time," Ron mumbled apathetically.

"Not keen on him, huh?" Harry asked.

"Not as much as you, Mr. So-Called Undesirable Number One."

"What?"

"Don't you have a muggle saying about politics and strange bedfellows?" Ron turned to Hermione.

"We do, but that's not the point," she replied, rolling up her sleeves. "Now come on, we have a ghost to exterminate. Or rather, prevent the extermination thereof, actually...Whatever, I'm tired."

* * *

 **Review if you wish Alan Rickman had shown to the world Rupert Grint's autographed caricature of Snape.**

 **-Raven**


	15. Hallucination

Harry sighed and sat down while Hermione poked and prodded at the bed.

"What is she doing?" Draco hissed. Fortunately for Harry, he was still stuck far away so he wouldn't be able to talk to him face to face. Unfortunately, nobody else seemed to be able to be having the same hallucination.

"And you're saying he's right here, like right in front of me?" Hermione asked, whipping around.

"Yes," Harry replied crossly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How come only you can see him?"

"Gee, I don't know."

"Now's not the time to be snarky." After living in Grimmauld Place for a while, Hermione had gotten a little better and speaking up against him whenever he went into one of those moods.

"I'm sorry," Harry grunted, "Habit. I'll ask him later so you don't have to watch me talk to thin air like a crazy man." Draco yelled obscene words in protest as if being more vulgar would prove his existence.

"Harry, we believe you, I'm just curious about this. So...your bed doesn't appear to have any curses or charms on it, not even one for enhanced somniferous effects."

"So if Malfoy's spirit is floating around there, is it possible we can find some way to trap it in a lamp and make him fulfill all our wishes?" Ron asked. "Not that I'm serious about doing that or anything."

Draco sent Ron glances that all spelled death in various nonverbal foreign languages. Harry laughed awkwardly then coughed.

"Well, I guess there's absolutely no way for us to sense or otherwise interact with him," Hermione shrugged. "Let me try a few spells."

"What is she doing?" Draco demanded, looking alarmed. "And why are you sitting all the way over there? Come back here!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're certainly not acting like a man who wanted to sleep for the rest of eternity. What makes you so lively now?"

"Look, I don't know!" Draco replied with frustration written all over his voice. "What are you even talking about?"

Harry stared at him for a few seconds.

"Hermione, I think he's talking to me and saying he doesn't even remember what happened," Harry spoke, as Ron and Hermione stared at him expectantly.

"He doesn't? Did he lose his memory to brain damage? Goodness, what did those Healers do to him?" Hermione frowned.

Just then, Neville threw open the door and burst into the room excitedly, causing everyone to flinch. "I got the Healers to hold off on whatever it was they were going to do!" He panted. "I went in and remembered an old favor that McGonagall promised me so I went to fetch it and waved it around a bit, and that got attention, so finally they listened-"

"Neville, you did not just wave the Sword of Gryffindor among a herd of Healers?" Hermione demanded, still recovering from his sudden entrance. Harry also took a deep breath - he still never quite got over loud noises or people suddenly Apparating into rooms.

"Well, they were being very fussy about following protocol and all that," Neville replied, "I mighta given some a few heart attacks...anyway, what's up with the bed?" He asked.

"We think Draco's "astral projection" might either be a hallucination or just visible to Harry," Ron replied curtly. Harry lightly smacked him upside the head.

"Well," Hermione said, "I think this calls for a dream catcher. I know a cultural appropriation-y shop that sells "spiritual" items. Or was it where Madam Trelawney made us buy crystal balls? Don't know, don't care." With that, she stood up in a huff and walked out, her frizzy hair now erupting into an untameable bush. Neville raised an eyebrow and walked over to Harry's bed. Draco shifted uncomfortably on it.

"Is he really on here?" Neville asked, as if he thought Draco was lying peacefully in Sleeping Beauty position.

"Yes," Harry replied uncomfortably.

"I see," Neville replied, then turned around and walked out. "I should go talk to Hannah. She wanted to talk about something."

"Understood," Harry replied. "See you." A pause.

"Um, Neville?" Ron asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah?"

"Remember...our talk about loud noises..."

Neville's hand flew to his mouth. "Oh Merlin! I forgot...oh dear...can you forgive me? I...I didn't..."

"It's okay," Ron replied reassuringly. "Just, for future reference."

Harry smiled at him gratefully.

Eventually, Neville left (after a few minutes of apologizing) and Ron too excused himself, not wanting to be in the same room as Malfoy's astral projection (to which Draco frowned and sneered at him right back, with Harry rolling his eyes).

Once it was just the two of them, Draco took a deep breath and exhaled loudly even though technically he probably didn't even need oyxgen. "They're gone," he hissed. "Finally."

"Yes," Harry replied dully.

"Will you come over here now?"

"No," Harry replied.

Draco frowned. He patted the place where a pillow laid. "Now," he demanded, sounding like a regular spoiled only child.

"Why should I?" Harry taunted him. "Not like you can make me, you know." He secretly relished the power of being able to say no.

"Because," Draco scowled, "I hate sitting on this thing by myself. Get out of that stupid chair and get over here so we can talk properly!"

"Hm, I don't feel like it," Harry replied, closing his eyes and crossing his legs idly. He could almost have sworn Draco bit his lip and balled up his hands into fists. Ha. "We can talk later."

"Really?"

"No," Harry replied in a singsong voice. Draco frowned again. Harry almost wanted to laugh at his face, but maybe that'd be mean. Well, not as mean as the stuff he'd been put through himself. Ha, ha. "I think maybe I shall find an entirely different place to sleep, if you don't mind."

"No, don't! You can't leave me behind in here, I'll go crazy!"

"Oh? You'll go crazy? How unfortunate," Harry replied with mocking false-pity.

"Please."

Harry blinked.

The blond man said nothing, just stared at him and scrunched up his eyes as if attempting very hard some kind of nonverbal persuasion magic. Harry stared right back at those very same grey eyes that had challenged him for years and years, almost hearing "Scared, Potter?" as clearly as if it were yesterday.

Draco's face remained unchanged. No gruff denials or convoluted excuses.

"Please?"

Harry flinched. Draco grinned at his reaction.

"You will come over, right? Surely that poor excuse for a chair chair can't be very comfortable," he added, "it looks like something built from a pile of Doxy-infested wood scraps by an uneducated peasant."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Now that was the Draco he knew, haughty and demanding. He sighed.

One last try.

"You really want me to?"

"Yes. Now...please."

That word again.

Without thinking, Harry found himself standing up and walking over to the bed, then slowly sitting down on it. The blond man grinned, as if he'd gotten what he wanted. However, Harry had more to talk about.

"So, you really don't remember how you got here or what happened to you, huh? Or even who you are?"

Draco frowned. "I have surmised that my first name must be Draco, thanks." He bit his lip. "And it appears the bushy-haired woman and the ginger aren't terribly fond of me."

"What? No way, they're like, your best friends of all time! You're one of Ron's favorite people in the world, even. Among his top ten - top five, definitely," Harry replied enthusiastically.

Draco frowned. "You're very...sarcastic," he harrumphed.

Harry snorted. "So I've been told. Hermione says it's a defense mechanism or something else like that."

"A what?"

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know what that means," Harry chuckled darkly.

This did not appear to faze Draco, as he had other plans on my mind. "How about we talk about something else?" He asked, reaching up and touching a lock of messy dark hair.

"Hm, let's put down a 'no touching' rule for now," Harry drawled.

"What?"

"Well, I'm not sure it's something you really want to do," Harry replied. Oh yeah and also there's a whole bunch of other reasons but haha now's not a good time to explain.

"What? Why not?" The blond man frowned, leaning in closer. Harry watched as their noses got closer, closer, and closer, until they were just centimeters apart. "Isn't this normal?"

Harry laughed mirthfully and stood up. "Well, good talking to you Draco, and I must admit I am impressed by your acting skills, but I have to go."

The blond man frowned at the sudden loss of proximity. "What are you saying? I'm not acting-"

SHarry laughed again, even more darkly. "Well, there's no other explanation, is there?"

"I don't understand. What are you trying to-"

"I'll see you later. I need to go nap on the couch," Harry sniffed. "Maybe if I feel better, I might send up Kreacher to clean this room so you can have some company. Or maybe not. Later."

"You're not making any sense, come b-"

Harry shook his head and forced himself to walk away, keeping his back to the bed.

"I'm not lying! I swear, I do remember some stuff, but I seriously don't know what's going on! Come back now!" Draco yelled. "Or I'll tell...I'll...my..."

With a firm thud, Harry shut the door behind him, and Draco's confused words silenced themselves completely. Harry hissed a quick Sticking Charm to keep the door shut and collapsed against it, breathing heavily.

* * *

 **Sorry, accidentally posted the wrong doc. Apologies for any confusion.**

 **I have not received any reviews since April and not to be rude, but can we correct this?**


	16. Bitch I Ain't Your Boo

Eventually, however, Harry did have to return to his room. It was not because he particularly missed Draco, but rather, his favorite sweater (which he had received just last Christmas from Mrs. Weasley) was still in a corner somewhere.

It was thus with some annoyance that he, wand in hand, slowly pushed open the door and looked around.

Draco's transparent outline still glowed amidst the faintly dim afternoon light. Immediately, he looked up and appeared very pleased that Harry had come to visit him.

"There you are," he declared triumphantly. "I knew you'd return eventually-"

"Well there's my good old pullover, wonderful, toodaloo," Harry replied, immediately turning around to leave.

"Wait!"

Suddenly, to his astonishment, Harry felt something tugging on his sleeve and looked over. Somehow, Draco's outline seemed a little sharper and firm. He was grinning, too, having noticed this. Harry watched as the hand on his shoulder flexed its knuckles and looked almost real.

"How are you doing that?" Harry demanded.

"I don't know," Draco replied, also in awe of himself but not entirely surprised, given his ego. "I suppose I just figured it out all by myself," he replied excitedly.

"Well good for you," Harry muttered, turning around and continuing to walk away. Just then he felt barely-there arms wrap around him and a tug not unlike that of a departing Portkey, then found himself sitting on top of the bed, quite confused.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry demanded.

Draco only smirked. "See, I figured some things out," he declared, even more pleased with himself.

"Ugh." Harry shook his head and made to stand up, but the ghostly hands around his waist still persisted. "What do you want with me?" He demanded.

"I want to talk with you," Draco replied quite simply, as if he had been asked something as dumb as "What is one plus one?"

Harry shifted. "Well, what is there to talk about? And can you let go of me first?"

Reluctantly, Draco removed his arms from around Harry's waist and crossed them. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you. Okay...let's make it quick. What did you want to say to me?"

"Well," Draco said, "I don't like being left here by myself for long periods of time, especially not when I'm tied to this bed."

"Well, I can send Crookshanks up for company if you'd like." Harry replied dryly.

"Who?" Draco looked horrified, as if he thought Hermione's cat might be some wicked felon with a shank and crooked teeth. "You wouldn't do that, would you? I'll- I'll call-" He froze midsentence, unsure of who to sic back on Harry. He frowned and picked at Harry's worn duvet. "I didn't know you hated me that much," he murmured. "I thought we were on good terms."

Harry almost laughed, but he somehow didn't feel like it. "What? What gave you the impression of that?"

"I thought - I thought we - aren't we...?"

"What?"

Draco bit his lip. "Aren't we supposed to be...used to this? You know...I know that we've known each other for years. We are friends, right?" He asked, sounding confident in the last part.

Harry shook his head fervently.

"We're not?" Draco asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged and looked down, picking at a loose string.

"But I remember asking you," Draco insisted, sounding almost bewildered, then his eyebrows furrowed and his tone turned accusatory. "I get it. You're _embarrassed_ because of it, aren't you? No... _ashamed_. _That's_ why you're pretending not to remember. Well, here's some news for you, _I_ didn't forget a single moment of what happened, and you can't deny it in front of me because I _know_."

"Ah yes," Harry replied crossly, a hundred percent sure that Draco had no idea what he was talking about. "I guess that time we made out on a Hippogriff really must have slipped my mind, apologies."

Draco's eyes lit up. "I knew it," he pointed a half-there finger at Harry's throat. "I knew it. You can't lie to me, Harry Potter." Harry blinked. Draco's grin widened. "Yes, I remember your name! I remember it, and...and..."

"Draco, that was a joke," Harry deadpanned. "You're not under the impression that we were dating, are you?"

Draco froze.

Harry breathed in rapidly.

"Wait, really?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't understand any of what's going on, but whatever it is, I don't like it and I especially do not like all these lies. I never thought you would sink this low, Potter," he growled, "But I've had enough of these mind games, and it would do you well to-"

"You can't threaten me, you're not even physically here," Harry replied, annoyed. "You know what, I've had enough," he stood up. "I'm leaving now, see you."

"No!" Draco demanded, standing up and grabbing onto him, ready to teleport him right back to the bed.

"Let go or I'll sic Mister Crookshanks on you!"

"No, just stay for a few bloody seconds, it won't hurt you to-"

"I'm warning you, he has a big ole cane called Oliver Wood, and he isn't afraid to use it!"

"Just stay! Stop being so selfish!"

"I am not selfish, but I do want to leave even more right now and yelling at me will not change that!"

Suddenly, he felt the arms unwrap and Draco sat back down on the bed, looking subdued.

This was a first.

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, sounding almost like he meant it.

Harry took a deep breath. "Just stay there and be calm, okay? I need to make myself something to eat and everyone else is out of the house." He sighed quietly. "I'll bring the cat up to give you company, if you like."

"Really?" Draco's eyes lit up. "You would? Well, that's brilliant. See, things go much better when you don't try to hide things from me," he added, looking triumphant.

Harry almost suppressed a smile. "Yes, you're very welcome. I'm sure Cr-um, Fluffy will take very nicely to you."

Hermione might have forgiven, but Crookshanks never forgot.

"Well, see you," Harry said cheerfully.

"See you," Draco replied. "But come back soon," he demanded.

"Yes, yes," Harry rolled his eyes.

With that he looked about until he finally found the half-Kneazle ball of death perched dangerously high, on top of the china cupboard. "Here kitty kitty," he crooned. Crookshanks just glared at him. "I need you to kill someone for me and your claws are so wonderfully adept at that," he added. Looking curious, Crookshanks' eyes lit up amd he hopped down, following alongside Harry eagerly. "Good cat," Harry marveled, "if you do a good job, I'll give you something nice to eat." Crookshanks purred agreeably and followed Harry back into his room. "Alright, here's the devil," Harry nudged open the door slightly, "Now go give him a big ol hug."

Seconds later, Draco could be heard shrieking "DEMON CAT! HELP! POTTER, YOU ARSE, YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" and Harry laughed harder than he had in a long time.

* * *

 **Pledge : Thanks. School has been rough so I didn't have a lot of time to update. Not sure if I can even now, but who knows. Thank you for replying. Any favorite parts of the story so far?**

 **One review, guys? Come on, you can do better than this. I know you are reading. Can we aim for like, two or three, maybe even five? Please and thank you.**


	17. The Scarlet String

After a while, Harry finally decided that Draco had been terrorized by Crookshanks for long enough, and went back in to let him out. He was also pleased to discover that, given Crookshanks could see Draco, he was not the only one undergoing a strange hallucination.

"That was a cruel thing to do, Potter," Draco spoke in a betrayed, angry voice. "Only a soulless person would do something like that." Now he was starting to sound more like the Draco Malfoy that Harry knew.

"Hm, I suppose that is true," Harry replied more cheerfully, "Now that I'm not a Horcrux anymore, I suppose you could say that whatever extra soul I had is completely eradicated."

Draco just peered at him with very confused eyes.

"Good kitty," Harry added as Crookshanks slinked back out of the room, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Draco glared at Harry silently for a while, to which Harry responded by simply meeting his stare.

 _Scared, Potter?_

"Hermione and the rest should be back soon," Harry said simply. "Within good time, I'll sure Hermione will have this fixed."

"I hope she does," Draco replied, still pissy-looking. "I'm tired of this stupid bed. Why do you even sleep on this thing? It's like a prison cot with a funeral shroud."

"Oh, you wrote poetry? I wasn't aware."

"Would you stop with the snarky remarks!"

"No."

Hermione chose that moment to swing open the door. "Alright," she said, heaving a large bag of various magical items. "Time to get to work and see if Draco is capable of spirit traveling or you just miss him too much."

"I let Cr - your cat in earlier, and he seemed to agree with me as he clawed him up," Harry said cheerfully. Draco growled at Harry. He leaned in and whispered "By the way, he doesn't know that Crookshanks is a cat, so he seems to think he's some terrifying crook with Oliver Wood for a weapon."

"I'll bet," Hermione said dryly, though she did seem somewhat more amused. "One of these days, you must let me enchant those glasses against any sort of accident that might get them broken. I know, I know they survived... _Voldemort_ and actual death, but come on, Harry."

"How's Ron?" Harry asked.

"He sends his sympathies but he has some much more prioritized business matters to attend to," Hermione replied. "Visiting at the Burrow, applying for the Chudley Cannons, and the like."

"Wow. I didn't know he was...wow," Harry spoke, awestruck.

"Yes. Unfortunately they already have a Keeper and he refuses to be a Beater on account of never having gotten over the Big Bang incident of Eighth year. So as for now, he's hoping to work his way up, starting as a groundskeeper."

"Oh...right," Harry bit his lip. "Well, he'll definitely clean those grounds up really well, I'm sure. And Neville and Hannah?"

"Went out with Ginny to drink. She's their designated Apparating ace in the hole," Hermione replied.

Luna also walked in wearing a most strange-looking pair of spectacles and stared at Hermione's offerings. "Why, you have the same Spectrospecs as me!" She exclaimed.

"They're just for show," Hermione said defensively, but Luna just grinned triumphantly and latched onto her arm.

"I knew it, Granger! You are also a secret believer, aren't you? Tell me the truth. You can't lie while I have The Vision!" She declared.

Hermione just groaned a little and Draco raised an eyebrow, not sure where to start asking questions.

"Goodness, those darned Nargles are at it again," Harry said airily, deciding not to offer any explanation.

Luna then strolled over to the bed and declared "Well, I can sense him perfectly well now!" At first Harry thought she might just be saying this because he had told them where Draco was, but then she reached out and grabbed him by the hair. Draco looked stunned and uncomfortably ducked out of the way of her hand, which persisted on shoving itself through where his nose was.

"He's here, right? Definitely here!" Luna shouted a little too loud, "accidentally" groping around where Draco's left eye was and stepping on where his foot laid.

"Um, yeah. You're a little in his space bubble though."

"Am I? Oh dear!" Luna shouted back stiffly. She then started waving her arm right where his head was, as if trying to slap him across the cheek. "You mean HERE? Or over HERE?"

"He's still there, yeah."

"AH, so then, over HERE?"

"That's his neck. You're...you're squeezing his neck."

"Well, THERE he is, I see!" With that, Luna returned to her spot near Hermione.

Hermione blinked and frowned. "I see nothing," she said, chucking the Spectrospecs.

"It's okay, I can't either, really," Luna replied soothingly, though Harry was pretty sure she could. "By the way, none of those things are likely going to work," she added.

Hermione scowled. "And how would you know?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "She can see me, I know she can," he hissed at Harry. "Does she not like me? That Ron guy doesn't either, huh? Does everyone hate me?"

Harry would be a liar if he said he wasn't tempted to just answer "yes", but instead he shrugged and replied "Hate is a strong word."

"Yes, yes, thank you for those words of wisdom Harry," Hermione grunted. "And what's wrong with the dream catcher?"

"Well you are right that it is cultural appropriation-y," Luna agreed, "but I suppose it's worth a try." With that, she and Hermione put the weird feather thing and placed it on the bed.

Absolutely nothing happened. Draco just glared at Harry and tapped his foot, looking much more cross than ever.

"When are they going to be done with this?" He demanded. "And why are you back in that chair again?" He added, a little whinily.

Harry shrugged and watched as Hermione scornfully put away her bag of magical objects, including a spool of ordinary-looking white thread.

"What's that for?" Harry asked with mild interest.

"Oh, something stupid about being useful for tying to someone who is fated to go somewhere with you and making sure they get there, or was it reuniting bodies with their souls. I don't know."

"Ah," Harry nodded. "Shall we call Cr- I mean, the demon cat with nine lives as a witness?"

"Sure," Hermione said grumpily, and went out to fetch Crookshanks.

Luna stared at the spool and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe...hm, I'm curious." Grabbing the white spool, she walked over to Harry and started unwrapping some of the white thread.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"If my hunch is right, then we might have a chance to prove he really is there to Hermione, maybe even do so much as be able to bring his spirit back to his body at St. Mungo's. Come on, help me - I can see him, but maybe you can stop him from spooking," she added.

With that, Harry followed her and the two of them unspooled more white thread.

"What's that for? What are you doing?" Draco demanded.

"Um, just trying to see if we can tie this to your disembodied spirit and maybe haul it over to your soulless body like a red balloon," Harry replied.

Draco crossed his arms. "That sounds absurd. Have you lost your mind, Potter?"

"What's he saying?" Luna asked, annoyed and adjusting her Spectrospecs.

"He's saying no," Harry sighed.

"Try negotiating with him," Luna suggested.

"We can recreate the Hippogriff kiss if you let us," Harry deadpanned, positive it would not work.

Draco's eyes gleamed. "So that was real?"

"Well, you definitely got mauled by a Hippogriff," Harry assured him.

Draco groaned and shook his head. "Stop it - I don't even know what's real anymore. I don't even care, just come over here now!"

Luna looked at Harry expectantly. "Did he say yes? What was that about a Hippogriff?"

"Um," Harry muttered, "He said hell no over my dead body. Some sort of insult regarding your sexuality. Yadda yadda my father will hear about this."

Draco frowned. Then his grin turned more confident and seductive. "I'll let you tie me up with whatever stupid string you have if you come over here, Potter," he grinned, shifting on top of the bed.

Something fluttered in Harry's stomach and he gripped the thread a little harder, frowning. "I can handle this. Just, look away, it might get a little ugly," he told Luna, and she surprisingly agreed. Harry took a deep breath and he unwound a few more feet of slack from the white string.

Luna looked up at the ceiling and blinked. "This whole place is infested with Nargles!" She exclaimed. "How did they all get in here?" And Harry leaned in and very quickly brushed his lips against ghostly ones, feeling the lightest and oddest sensation in his entire life. He could feel Draco's ghostly mouth smirking, as if he'd won, and ghostly hands reaching up to grasp his face and pull him in closer.

Then, before he was drawn in too close, Harry quickly pulled away and took out the white string, wrapping it around Draco's hand. It glowed and turned a scarlet red, and before Harry knew what was happening, it started tying itself around Draco's hand and knotted itself quite neatly. Then the spool vanished and the rest of the red thread wrapped itself around Harry's arm.

"H-hey!" Harry exclaimed, causing Luna to jump suddenly and turn around, and the red thread tied a knot around Harry's darker brown wrist.

Luna stared, her mouth falling open.

"I don't suppose this spirit thread is the kind you can cut with an ordinary pair of gardening scissors?" Harry grunted. "Cause that's all Kreacher is bound to keep around."

Luna closed her mouth and shook her head. "No, certainly not," she replied firmly.

Just then, Hermione walked in with Crookshanks, who roared suddenly and jumped out of her arms. Hermione let out a cry of protest as the demonic creature soared through the air, through Draco, and landed onto Harry. Instantly, Harry yelped and fell over due to the weight of the bewildered Kneazle, and Draco yelped and fell over too as if yanked by something. Harry grunted faintly as his head hit the floor with an impressive cracking sound, and Draco's ghost landed and floated on top of him, grey eyes boring into green ones. Another crunchy sound informed him that his glasses had fallen off his nose and were now lying on the floor underneath him in a million pieces. Draco blinked and reached up, and his left hand began to stroke Harry's cheek with a feather-light touch.

"Oh Merlin, Harry! Are you alright? Oh goodness, I told you to let me enchant those glasses but you wouldn't listen...where did the white spool full of string of fate go? Luna, Luna, he might have cracked his skull, and this is all my fault!"

Harry groaned quietly and let his head fall back, not caring anymore. He felt cool fingertips brush across his forehead and push stray locks out of the way, and lips that were only halfway there leaving a quiet kiss on uncovered bare skin. Some part of him wished against his right mind that those lips were a bit firmer and leaned in, groping at the air for something he couldn't touch. Then he found himself drifting back into serene darkness, and given the fact he was lying just inches away from his own bed, he calmly let himself fall out of consciousness knowing Hermione would eventually lay him on his prison cot and cover him up with that ugly old funeral shroud to rest. Warm breath ghosted across his ear, and for a moment, it was almost as if Draco were right there beside him, whispering his name and cradling his tired head within those comforting arms.

 _"Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep."_

Harry's mouth quivered. _Yeah, I suppose that's easy for someone who died by Veil to say_. But to be honest, if this were death, he wouldn't mind going out like this.

* * *

 **Ha...ha...this story is called Kiss Kiss and there isn't really a lot of kissing action, huh? We need to, um, fix that. Eventually.**

 **Omg does anyone else remember the hippogriff kiss? Iconic. Up there among the top five kisses of all time including Spiderman/Mary Jane, Gandalf+Grindelwald, JackxRose and Buttercup-Wesley.**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews! I really do appreciate them. They were all so kind.**

 **lenientzebra : Thanks, we finally have a chance to actually put in kisses! And um, fate strings. Yeah.**

 **Guest : Aw, thank you. Yeah, the plot is a little confusing, isn't it? Oh well. It's intended to be so that you can imagine the short stories and ministories as all part of one storyline or separate if you prefer. Confusing, I know.**

 **Guest : I'm glad you're enjoying it! I should hope!**

 **bellaandbeastlove : Aw, thank you so much! **

**Thank you for the feedback to those who reviewed, and to those who haven't but still wanna know more, feel free to comment if you know/want to know what the red string is about!**

 **-Raven.**


	18. Revelation

When Harry woke up, he found that for the most part, he was alone by himself and it was nighttime again.

Of course, he was not entirely alone.

"Good to see you awake once more," Draco's voice breathed in his ear and Harry jerked wide awake, turning. If he squinted, he could see the faint outline of Draco's spirit. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry rubbed his eyes and turned away. "I'm hungry," he muttered, reaching down to calm his jumping stomach.

Draco harrumphed, unhappy at having been ignored. "Just call for the house-elf to bring you something," he replied irritably, and he almost seemed exactly like himself. Clearly he had wanted to talk about something else.

Harry sat up and pushed aside the covers, trying his best not to look over his shoulder. An uncomfortably strong beat thrummed in the left side of his chest, which seemed to get louder and faster to the point that he marveled at how Draco hadn't remarked anything about it.

"Hey," Draco drawled, "You're not leaving again, are you?"

Forcing himself to turn around and look at him, Harry bit his lip and replied "What is it with you and leaving? Do you want me to lie in bed all day like an invalid?"

"I'm doing the same, aren't I?" Draco challenged him. "Oh, don't try to deny it. I'm not dumb, you know. I can hear that Granger woman and the rest of those strangers talking about me. They seem to think I'm in a coma. That's what my body's doing, isn't it?"

"So you've realized you're a spirit," Harry muttered dully, looking down at the duvet.

"Would you mind making eye contact with me when I'm talking with you? You - you kissed me, you know, you might as well talk to me like a normal person!"

"That's was just to shut you up long enough to tie the spirit string thingamajig onto your wrist," Harry replied, continuing to evade eye contact.

"My eyes are up here, you know."

"Apologies. My eye sight is faulty."

"So I've found out! Well, if you're looking for those awfully unfashionable glasses you were wearing earlier, they're over there," Draco gestured.

Harry coughed. "Wow, Draco. I do believe this is the first time you've ever tried to be helpful to me."

"Whatever," Draco growled, as if he were somewhat pleased and annoyed at the same time by this.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I will now go to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I'm starving."

"Fine, but if you could tell me that again while looking at me in the eye, I would appreciate it greatly! Why are you so shifty around me? Didn't we use to be close? I don't understand all this shiftiness and, and, demon cats and staring down at my chest."

Harry said nothing, just quietly waited for him to let it all out.

"Why won't you respond to anything I say?" Draco groaned, clearly frustrated. "You're like...a wall of stone. No, I take it back! A wall that refuses to respond in anything but sarcasm!"

Harry opened his mouth.

"No more of that!" Draco hollered with such inner frustration that Harry decided to keep his smartness to himself.

"Why won't you just...get angry or whatever it is you feel towards me?" Draco demanded. "I hate all this passive aggressiveness. Just say something, I beg you!"

" _Oh, you want me to say something now?"_

Draco stared at him, frozen.

"You, Draco Malfoy... The boy who called my mother good for nothing, who insulted my best friend...who nearly got my friends and I countless times...whose life we saved, only for you to default back to Voldemort's side...who mocked my fear of Dementors because you were such a mature and tactful person...who insulted practically every person in this room...you _want_ me to tell you something?"

Draco's eyes widened, and for a second, Harry wondered if he was starting to remember.

"You're right. I am shifty. You think I want to be stuck with _you?_ You think I wanted to have your ghost astral projection spirit soul whatever stuck to MY bed, added on as a new responsibility? You think _I_ enjoy having to sleep within close quarters of the man who worked every year to make my life hell, who Petrified me and stomped on my nose and left me in a train until Luna thankfully discovered me with her Spectrospecs? Do you think I owe you an explanation for my passive aggressiveness?" Harry seethed.

Draco said nothing, merely stared at him in shock and...what was it? Fear?

"You," Harry snarled, "You want to know the truth? We were never friends, and for a whole bunch of good reasons. You were the one who chose to look down on Ron, to try to get Hagrid expelled, to call Hermione that awful word, to work for Voldemort and Imperius Rosmerta, to poison Ron and nearly kill Katie Bell." He took a deep breath, feeling a warning thudding and a sensation as if someone was snatching his heart by the veins and trying to tear it out. " _That_ is the person who you were."

Draco scrunched up his face, staring at him, unsure of how to respond. Harry panted and clutched at his heart, taking deeper and deeper breaths. "So for the record, no, I don't want to be close to you. I would rather if you just stayed out of my life. I'm sure you, with all your cunning for the Dark Arts, should have enough presence of mind to understand that. Or maybe not. Only someone with a heart could," he snarled.

Draco looked down, conflicted.

"So?" Harry demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Draco looked down and bit his lip.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, though he still was miles away from the Malfoy that Harry had seen on his doorstep just days ago. He still had no idea of the complete gravity of his actions.

"Now go back to your wretched body," Harry hissed, "And leave me alone forever."

Draco looked up at him, shocked, then after a few seconds he understood that Harry was seriously. With a regretful face, he closed his eyes, and his outline began to ripple. Harry watched, slowly, as Draco's transparent form slowly wiped itself away until there was nothing left.

Harry looked down at his wrist, seeing nothing left but a bracelet of red twine tied around it.

"I suppose I'll still have this to remember him by," he muttered to himself.

* * *

 **Some family issues are going on. Apologies. Updates may be erratic or slow.**


	19. Famous Last Words

By the next morning, Harry found himself quite pleased to be on his own. No matter where he looked, there was no sign of Draco. Crookshanks did not appear to detect any sign of him, either, and Harry thus surmised that Draco had left him alone after all.

Hermione frowned. "You fainted, nearly crack your skull, and you're up and telling me he just left like that?"

Harry just nodded, not even in the mood for smart cracks. Hermione seemed to notice this, as she just added more honey to her tea and asked Ron about his janitorial job. Apparently he had opened his cleaning supplies closet to find a bunch of teenagers with a highly dangerous Ashwinder eggs brew that they claimed was a tisane for their sick mother's poor condition.

"Sore throat indeed!" Ginny remarked. Neville and Hannah were still snoring upstairs, completely hungover. "I'll say, Harry, how are you feeling now?"

Harry stared at his teacup. "Better," he admitted to himself, and his head seemed a little lighter than usual.

Ginny cocked her head and frowned. He could feel those bright, intense eyes boring into him and studying him. Although Ron and Hermione knew him well enough, some of his moods still escaped their understanding when he decided to play mystic man. Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to have a grip on his shiftiness no matter what. She alone knew what had happened during her time under Voldemort's possession, and as much as she was an overachieving athlete with competence and confidence, she hadn't grown that thicker skin on her back just because of her household full of brothers.

Ginny knew exactly the kind of walls that Harry put up whenever people asked him about Voldemort, and how to break down whatever sarcasm he used to counter the mental breakdowns that threatened to leave him waking up in bed yelling for Sirius or Cedric or even his parents. Ginny had built walls too. She knew all about them. Breaking up with her had not changed any of that.

"Are you really feeling better?" Ginny asked, as Luna sat down next to her and nuzzled her shoulder affectionately. The way she stared at him, Harry might have thought it meant that she wanted him back in the past. But having lived in the same house as her, he had now come to understand that the fierce intensity was simply part of Ginny's qualities. He had stopped being her boyfriend, but Ginny never let go of the people she took to and decided to look after. In a way, that quality was what reminded him most of her mother, despite her tomboyish nature.

Harry stared at his teacup. He felt the urge to shrug it and undermine it, as usual. Or maybe say something else sarcastic like "No biggie." But it was pointless to underplay things to Ginny. If he did that, even if Ron and Hermione didn't notice, she would see through it all and frown and tilt her head just so and say "What was that?" just as fiercely.

"I'm glad he's gone, but I'm pretty sure it's taken a lot more out of me than I'd like," he replied.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. _Go on_ , her eyes urged him, with the same look that could make any other Quidditch Chaser feel weak-kneed and fall off their broom if they dared to get in her way.

Harry sighed.

"I feel mixed," he replied irritably. "That's really all I can say. Am I fine? Not really. But he agreed to leave, and so I feel somewhat glad about that. But I still have an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I'm hoping it's just because of the burnt hotcakes, though," he muttered crossly.

Hermione sighed. "Well, it could also be that we're just not used to living peaceful lives," she frowned, looking frustrated. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders gently and she quietly nuzzled his shoulder.

Harry said nothing, just idly continued to play with his hands.

"Do you want us to go check up on his body for you, now that you say his spirit returned to it?" Luna asked gently.

She never said a first or last name but everyone knew who she was talking about.

"Maybe he was just a hallucination after all," Harry muttered, nursing his mug of coffee. "Maybe...he was just some image I retrieved out of boredom."

A really flirty hallucination, though, some voice in the back of his mind muttered.

Quietly, Harry pinched himself, frustrated. Sometimes being the King of Snark 24-7 could get annoying.

"You feel lonely?" Ginny cut in.

Silence.

Harry looked down at his hands. "I didn't hear that," he spoke quietly, examining an old callus on his wand hand. "What did you say?"

"You feel lonely?"

Pause.

"I guess...maybe. Why?"

Harry looked up. Now Ron and Hermione and Neville and Hannah were looking at each orher a little guiltily.

"Not because all of you are dating," Harry clarified grumpily. "I just...I don't know. I miss a lot of people. Maybe it's because of that, I've started wanting to aee even hated faces again. Maybe I'll start dreaming about Snape next," he added jokingly.

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure if now is a good time or the worst time ever to tell you, then..."

"Tell me what?" Harry demanded.

"Dean and Seamus are looking into coming over," Luna replied serenely.

"They are? Well, we must let them in, then," Harry sighed. "Can't let any of our old friends go homeless if we can afford it."

"You sure you-?"

"If we can get this place to feel as busy as the Burrow, I won't mind," Harry replied, crossing his arms.

Ginny and Ron exchanged looks. Mrs. Weasley was already going mad because of Bill, Fleur, Gabrielle, Percy and Charlie according to recent reports. George showed up, too, on occasion.

"I'm not sure if you know what you're wishing for, mate," Ron replied. "But I guess I can respect your sudden urges to collect everyone into one place."

Harry shrugged. "I know what it's like to grow up in inadequate living quarters just because nobody else has any space for you," he replied sullenly.

Silence.

"Right, right. Less dark angst and more positivity. Sorry."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, no, it's fine. We're just a little worried and wondering if there's something we can do to help it."

"Just be there."

"Okay."

Once they had all finished with their breakfast, Hermione explained that Neville and Hannah would be going to pick up Dean and Seamus while she and Ron would go to St. Mungo's to check up on Draco.

"And you two," she nodded at Ginny and Luna, "can make sure Harry doesn't depress himself into envisioning more hallucinations of Malfoy during our absence."

"Very funny," Harry crossed his arms and pretended to be offended. Hermione laughed and lightly whacked his arm.

Ginny and Luna, however, were great company and Harry did not mind being babysat by them as much as he might have dreaded. They decided to spend some time racing around the backyard on brooms in order to impress Luna, who cheered indiscriminately with much enthusiasm. It felt almost like a regular Quidditch game again.

Soon, Ginny and Harry agreed to try out each other's positions. Harry clumsily fumbled with the Quaffle as Ginny did her best impression of Ron, anxiously zooming back and forth in front of the goal hoops while huffing loudly. After they laughed a good deal and Harry failed to score any points on Ginny, Harry imitated the golf ball catch practice that Wood had used to train him by picking up acorns that seemed about the right size. As expected, Ginny won and caught most of the acorns, except for a few throws that Harry himself deemed impossible to get to in the first place.

"Go Gryffindor!" Luna cheered for the eleventh time, as Harry and Ginny agreed that Ginny had won and finally touched down on the ground.

Afterwards, Harry and Luna decided to make a snack (which Ginny was not allowed to partake in preparing) and all three of them sat down on a couch, quietly enjoying it.

"It's nice to just be able to sit down and relax for once," Harry breathed. "I feel like I should be doing something, you know...applying to be an Auror, or maybe a teacher at Hogwarts, or something like that, but..."

"Don't," Ginny said so firmly that he closed his mouth instantly. "We get that you're The Boy Who Lived For Justice and All Kinds of Stuff Like That, and you can't live without trouble finding you, but seriously. You need a break. Okay? Luna, Hermione, all of us might take up jobs or stay at home alternatively and that might make you lonely, but that's not enough of an excuse to force you back into living a stressful nine to five when you're still not ready to get into commission. The Ministry wants Aurors who are ready for a lot of emotional, physical, and magical duress, and for now, you've gone through more mental tests than you've needed to for a long time. Just relax, for Merlin's sake!"

Luna just nodded in agreement and nibbled at her scone, absorbed in her own world.

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Okay, thanks then, Ginny," he replied. It was nice to have her bluntness to ground him some days. "I think I should at least get some groceries, though," he stood up. "We're coming with you," Ginny declared.

"What? It's just around the corner!"

"Famous last words, Harry," Ginny replied. "Besides, we should be able to camouflage you from anyone trying to snatch up so-called Undesirable Number One and make you their wife."

"Psht, I am my own wife," Harry replied goofily.

"Try telling that to your 'hallucination,'" Ginny replied.

"Oy!" Harry lightly smacked her arm, not really anywhere close to hurting, but he did feel a little unsetled at the mention of Draco.

Thus, Luna and Ginny bundled themselves up and the three of them set out to get something to eat.

The air was dark and faintly cool, and several magical smells that seemed to escape Muggle noses wafted around, forming a thin enchanted miasma of strange and wonderful teas, plants, and perfumes. Harry took a deep breath of it, feeling it reinvigorate him. Somehow, the warm smells wrapped themselves around him and made him feel a little better.

As Harry explained more stuff to Luna and Ginny, who still had things to discover about the supermarket and its many charms, they made their way through isles of cartons and produce and Harry paused, curiously.

"Do witches ever, um, use the same hygiene products as Muggles?" He asked quietly. Well, at least, Hermione did.

Luna and Ginny just turned towards each other mysteriously and smiled, further puzzling him.

"Oh, periods are no big deal with _magic_ ," Ginny replied.

"Indeed," Luna giggled, "No need for primitive Muggle methods!"

Harry just frowned and raised an eyebrow, unable to tell if they were being sarcastic.

As they finally checked out, Harry began to grow impatient as he bumped into a haggard-looking man and a woman wheeling a baby stroller. "So sorry," Harry apologized, backing away and almost dropping the bottle of wine (for Dean and Seamus, supposedly). Luna walked over and grabbed his arm, expertly leading him away from the potential carnage (a good thing, too, as the woman with her child was beginning to eye him a little stinkily). Ginny had already crossed the street and was waiting for them on the other side, red hair whipping in the wind, with a look in her eyes that said _Ginny Weasley waits for no one_. Or maybe _Yes, Harry, everything is a competition._ Sometimes it was hard to tell since they were pretty similar looks.

Just as Luna was walking him across, Harry took a deep breath, looking up - and something whispered in his ear " _Run_."

Harry whirled around, letting go of Luna's arm.

"What are you doing? Scram! Now's not the time to stand around looking stupid!" The voice hissed again. Where was it coming from?

Suddely, everyone froze. Luna, with her hand outstretched and mouth calling out his name - Ginny, with her arms crossed and eyes widening in shock, and the pedestrians crossing the street. Cars screeched to a stop as drivers gaped at the statues all around them, only to be frozen in time as well.

Then something hit Harry hard and knocked him to the ground. Immediately, a jet of green light shot by his ear and hit the pavement next to him.

"You're not safe here," the voice whispered once more in his ear, and he suddenly felt himself being lifted up and dragged elsewhere.

Just a few feet away, running through the frozen crowd were the haggard man and woman pushing a baby stroller. The man held out a wand, a grim sneer on his face, and the woman's eyes were cold and devoid of remorse, hatred, or any sort of emotion. As she lifted the hood of the baby stroller, slowly, Harry gasped and something knocked him over again.

"Don't look at it!" The voice chided. Harry scrambled to his feet, running away as fast as he could.

"What is it?"

"A Gorgon head, likely from Borgin and Burkes. It's a nasty - you'll be stone before you've got a good look at it. Be glad your friends are already Pertrificus Totalus. This one's for you." Harry dodged more jets of light and panted, trying to follow the voice.

"Will they go back to life?" He breathed.

"Yes, once they're outside of its range. Just _hurry!_ " The voice replied impatiently.

"How come I'm not affected?"

"Obviously I got you out of the way first!" The voice huffed with even more annoyance, as if that were possible.

"And you? How do you know what's in that perambulator?"

"Well, technically I don't have a body to Petrify any further even though I looked inside," the voice replied, "And secondly, I may or may not at some point have considered purchasing one."

Finally, Harry reached a streetlight with a strange silver button that only a few peple could see, and pressed it muttering "Code black, code black!" hurriedly. It took a few seconds, but a small protection bubble of magic wards and invisibility spells immediately surrounded him. Harry panted and clucthed the streetlight, sinking and falling against it. The man and woman ran past him, looking around, not even noticing the faint Confunding taking place. Harry released a sigh of relief.

"Hello, Department of Magical Security speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm at..." Harry looked up. "Gurney Corner, a couple of dark magic users with a Gorgon's head just passed by me..."

"Can you give me any descriptions?"

"I don't think I've ever seen any of them before, even though I have had run-ins with Death Eaters, but one's this thin looking dark-haired man with cheeks like a bloodhood and sallow, shadowy eye bags and no and the second's this fairly plump woman with thick eyebrows and pinched in lips. She's pushing a baby stroller with the Head, so beware."

"And do you wish to file this as an anonymous report, or-?"

"Anonymous," Harry gritted his teeth, knowing the Ministry had charms to identify him by touch.

"A few professionals are on the way to handle the situation. Thank you for your assistance," the voice coolly replied.

"Alright, we fooled them for now, but we are probably going to have to move," Harry grunted and fumbled with his moleskine pouch. "I know official instructions are to stay put near the safety zone, but if my instincts are correct-"

Seconds later, a jet of red light hit the street pole. Harry didn't even have enough time to pull out his Invisibility Cloak and sprint away before the area around it lit on fire and exploded, singeing the end of his right sleeve.

"NO!" The voice hollered, and Harry had just enough time to glance over his shoulder as something pushed him down and another crack resounded through the sidewalk where he had been standing, breaking open and growing hotter than Harry could stand being near.

Just then, a few wizards and wizards Apparated from a safe point nearby and ran out, surrounding the man and woman and trying to subdue them. The woman shrieked and pulled out the Head, and an Auror was forced to cast _Reducto_ while pointing his wand at her. The force of the explosion threw her back onto the ground, where she screamed and tried to get up but was immediately surrounded by three witches. Another wizard cast an Anti Apparition and Anti Portkey ward and another one created a strange purple cloud of thick miasma that spread over the ground for several feet. Once it touched Harry's ankles, he felt his legs being forcibly slowed down until he slipped in the thickening purple sludge and fell over. Last he saw, the Aurors had begun to pile over the man like a bunch of Americans trying to get to their precious football.

 _I cannot black out again_ , Harry repeated staunchly to himself. _I've already done it twice, after Draco attempted suicide_ _and Crookshanks darn near gave me a concussion. If I do it a third time, that will be pathetic._

A faintly transparent figure hunched over him, with light shining through his fair hair and casting a sort of halo around it.

"Are you alright?" The angelic apparition breathed.

Harry breathed in sharply, as his eyes suddenly fixed on a red thread that wound around the figure's wrist and trailed over, then was tied tightly around his own wrist. The scarlet string.

"Harry?" The figure asked again, kneeling down and reaching for his face. "Are you - are you alright? Can you hear me?"

Soft hands and quiet, faint breathing that Harry grew more conscious of as it came closer and closer to his face, until he could feel the warm breaths on his face and drown in grey eyes the color of a pessimistic winter day.

Moving on their own, his hands reached up clumsily and wrapped themselves around a ghostly neck, bringing those eyes closer until he could see the darkness inside of their pupils and thin lips, trembling and hesitantly closing the distance between them. Harry breathed in, and the figure bent down and exhaled shakily.

"I'm sorry," it murmured against his mouth, but Harry didn't care.

"HARRY!" Ginny's roar and Luna's mournful call reached him at the same time, as did the two witches themselves. He could feel firm arms grabbing onto him and pulling him up, and a concerned Mediwitch broke away from to the Obliviator team to check on him.

"Draco," Harry breathed and then coughed, shaking as if he were suddenly a lot more frail than ever.

"We know, you don't have to worry about him, he's in a safe place," Ginny replied impatiently. "Come on, let's get you home-"

"Excuse me! Would you mind talking for a suuuuper quick interview?"

 _God no,_ Harry groaned.

"Have some integrity, for goodness sake! Go back to writing conspiracy theories about Cornelius Fudge or whatever it is you normally do instead," Ginny replied, signalling over the Knight Bus.

Harry did not black out, but he did spend a few moments not paying any attention at all to what was going on, and presently felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"We have you," Luna murmured. "I'm sorry. But we're here now."

"Can you show me your right hand, dear?" The Mediwitch asked kindly. "If you have any burns, I will need to treat them right now."

Harry looked over and slowly lifted the singed remains of his right sleeve. Then, taking a deep breath, he looked down at his exposed right wrist.

The red string bracelet remained, ever mysterious and just the same as before.

* * *

 **Pancake lover101** : **Thank you so much for your review, it really made my day and improved things significantly. Bless you.**


	20. Summoning Spell Gone Wrong

Norm Gene Percy (short for Normal Generic Person) sighed and idly twiddled his cap between his hands. It had been another ordinary day manning the cash register at Tesco - and finally, for once the store was empty.

Norm whistled and leaned back, thinking of the nice casserole his wife was making for him at home. Soon, his little angel Kayleigh would be returning from ballet, and her spoiled rich brat friend Ernest would also be picked up by his equally high maintenance mother and taken to America for school. _Good riddance!_ He thought to himself. He didn't like it one bit when he saw that blond boy talking to his precious daughter. Hopefully, he would be gone for good.

Sighing to himself, Norm hummed an arbitrary Queen song and decided to wait out the last five minutes before closing time.

"This thing...called love...I just, can't handle it, this thing..."

 _Thump_.

Something fell off of an aisle. Likely, a carton of spaghetti or whatever that a careless customer had picked up and set back too hastily. Well, he could take care of that later. For the amount Norm was being paid, he certainly could care less about a fallen pack of spaghetti-

 _Thump_.

Wow. Two fallen items in the same day, what was the chance?

 _THUNK!_

Norm stopped whistling.

 _THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

What in the Lord's name was going on? _Did someone fall asleep in a pile of groceries or what?_ Norm stood up and began walking over to investigate. On second thought, he also grabbed a pepper spray that someone had already opened, and a long metal soup ladle. You never knew.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._

Norm's breath hitched in his throat, but he willed himself to be brave, no matter what lay waiting for him. He considered calling his wife to say goodbye, but decided against it.

 _Kayleigh darling,_ he sighed, _Daddy always loved you, never forget that. Also if you marry that prat Ernest Brighton I will disinherit you and all of your children and never show up for any family reunions ever. Good luck with your Coppélia solo, I always knew you would get the part, your jeté is way better than that tart Amanda's._

Taking a deep breath, Norm raised his soup ladle and turned the corner.

Two seconds before passing out, Norm witnessed what looked like was an entire aisle's worth of condom boxes, lubricant, and various other adult products achieving flight. The last thing he saw was a strange phallic object not much shorter than his soup ladle, which flew through the air and smacked him in the face, after which he prayed that the Lord Jesus might restore dignity and sanity to the human race then fainted.

When a couple of embarrassed male wizards debated calling up the Ministry and asking for an official team of Obliviators to cover up their lack of foresight and poor Summoning skills, they decided in the end to just clean up the Tesco aisle and correctly guessed that the experience had altogether been far too surreal for Norm Gene Percy to even consider disclosing it. Magic is real, and it is capable of making packs of Durex levitate like Superman - pfft, as if! All they had to do was awkwardly restack thirty-seven boxes of intimate needs products for two hours, discreetly slip a few pounds into Norm's pocket, kill a few more minutes waiting until sunrise by reading aloud lubricant ingredients and attempting to pronounce them, and finally leave without another word. No one would be the wiser.

* * *

 **You want an explanation?**

 **Well, I have none. NONE!**

 **Ok fine I guess I do have one.**

 **If we still haven't figured out cancer, why the hell would wizards have a protection spell? Well that sounds too easy.**

 **Ethanize : Thank you, I am glad you liked the action. Apologies for giving you a shoutout in a super embarassing chapter, but I hope you get a few laughs out of this at least.**


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